


Berserk Happy AU

by stingingcake



Category: Berserk (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Complete, F/M, I'm great at naming things, Slow Burn, but really not that slow of a burn, gutsca - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2019-07-13 21:14:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 24,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16026095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stingingcake/pseuds/stingingcake
Summary: Or where Griffith and the Princess were never caught and the eclipse never happens. The Band of the Hawk have all moved on and are achieving their individual dreams, well, all except two…





	1. Casca is Jealous?

She was standing with her back to him, a gentle breeze playing with her soft looking hair. It was rather picturesque, if he thought so himself, and lonely.

“Yo.” Guts greeted. 

He joined her on the secluded breezeway as it overlooked the castle garden. How did he get there? Well, after training for a few hours he got bored. Nobody had any time for him right now what with the wedding preparations and all, so he had been wandering the grounds for a little while. Guts realized he hadn’t really had a chance to talk to Casca since he got back; she was the only one he hadn’t caught up with. 

“How Eloquent.” She said sharply, sending a glare his way.

Great, Casca was in one of her moods. He wondered if it were her time of the… the look on her face stopped him from even finishing those thoughts. She would probably be able to smell what he was thinking and then focus even more of her anger on him. 

She then sighed as she realized what she’d said. Her shoulders sagged a bit. Casca then went back to looking at whatever she had been studying before he interrupted her.

“I’m sorry,” She said, “I’m just a little stressed.”

Not saying anything, Guts walked up to the railing next to Casca and followed her gaze to the subject, or rather subjects of her attention. 

The Princess Charlotte, accompanied by her fiance Griffith. They were in the gardens, arm in arm, casually talking. Even from this distance one could tell they seemed to be in their own little world despite the many chaperones surrounding them. 

Charlotte was in love with Griffith, Casca was in love with Griffith, hell, half the court was in love with Griffith, and Guts wished it were just the women. And while some, the Princess included, believed Griffith was motivated by love, most with half a brain figured he just wanted to be king one day, and as far as Guts knew the latter were right. It was and honest to God miracle that the engagement had even happened in the first place, and foul play seemed to be in effect at least partially. Some were angry that a man of such low birth was going to be their ruler, but others were impressed that such a brilliant man made it. They knew if his ambitions included helping the kingdom prosper surely he would be able to do it. Classic Griffith.

Looking back at Casca, Guts was struck with realization. He sighed and started, “You have to understa-”

“I know, okay?” She interrupted, “She is the only way to fulfil his dream without breaking this peace, and he is probably fulfilling her dream of being swept away by a knight in shining armor.”

Guts was confused, what would a princess want with a lowly knight? He tried to hide his puzzlement, but Casca saw through the facade.

“I always forget you never had a childhood,” She said, “There’s a lot of fairy tales that talk of heroic princes and knights that rescues the damsel in distress from the evil monster. Most little girls dream of such things, even real princesses it seems.” She looked down at her hands resting on the railing, “I’m happy for them, really I am.”

The venom in her persona earlier had faded away to a tired, defeated demeanor. Emotion thickened her voice, “I just- just-”

She wasn’t going to cry, was she? Guts didn’t know how to help if she started crying. Casca’s voice broke him out of his inner turmoil, “It’s just,” She choked out, “I realized I never had a chance to begin with.” Tears started welling in her eyes, “Not in a million years, Not with the stars aligned.” A single tear trace down her cheek, “I thought I could be satisfied with being his sword, but I can’t even be that anymore. He’s just soaring so far out of reach. It was the dream of a stupid woman and I woke up.”

She wobbled a bit, and with her so close to railing it made him a little nervous. There was a sizable drop, and it wasn’t like there was a river under this fall too. Gently as he could, Guts grasped her shoulders and lead her away from the edge to a bench. She all but collapsed on him as soon as they sat down.

“You two,” She choked out, the sobs starting, “Always go on and- and on about your dreams, so you should understand.” 

Guts awkwardly put his arms around her as she cried in earnest. He didn’t say anything; he didn’t know what to say. Casca’s sobs were muffled by his chest and her tears soaked through his shirt. It was strange to see Casca in such a state, it was a side she trusted few people with. So fragile, so open. 

If not for the reason he was holding her and the fact she was crying, the situation would have been pretty great. She was a woman, a pretty one to say the least, and she felt small, almost delicate if not for her muscles. He wondered how she would take that if he told her. Probably as an insult, but Guts didn’t mean it that way. He didn’t exactly know how he meant it, but it was definitely a good thing. 

At least, unlike when they first met, she stopped hating him so much. In fact if Judeau was to be believed, hatred was on the opposite of she felt for him. While he trusted Judeau on many things, Guts wasn’t so sure.

Guts didn’t know how much time passed before the crying finally stopped, and as much as he had wanted her to, once she did he would lose the excuse to hold her. And Guts found he liked her in his arms very much. It felt as right as a sword in his hand, and yet completely different as well.

The sobs eventually turned into sniffles, that eventually stopped all together. She didn’t move from where she was sitting which was practically his lap. Guts wasn’t complaining. 

Casca’s voice was still raw from crying when she started apologising, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-” 

“It’s fine.” He said, cutting her off. She loosened her embrace and Guts did the the same, allowing her to grab an embroidered tissue from her pocket. She wiped the tears from her eyes and blew her nose.

Quietly he asked, “Do you now know why I had to leave?”

“Maybe.” Her voice was small.

Casca crumpled the tissue, which upon closer inspection had the symbol of the Band of the Hawk embroidered on it. As she was putting it back in her pocket, Guts asked in jest, “We have personalized snot rags, eh? A lot has changed since I left.”

Casca looked confused until she saw the sigil. “Oh, actually the princess made this one. Earlier she invited me to join her in embroidery. I couldn't exactly refuse…” her voice trailed off as her thoughts drifted back briefly, “I couldn’t think of a way to explain I haven't sewed for fun since before I left home. She tried to teach me, but…”

He smiled gently, “The famed lady commander of the hawks, master of the sword and war is bested by a needle.” He laughed lightly, “I'd believe that from the way you patch me up.”

She rolled her eyes, “Like you can do better.”

“I don't need to, I'm not a woman.”

She punched him, almost playfully, a hint of a smile on her lips.

After a thought crossed his mind he asked, “Can I see it?”

“What?”

“The one you made”

“Oh,” She rummaged around her pocket, “Sure.”

She pulled out a square of fabric identical to the first one except for the sigil on it. This one was messy, barely recognizable except for the color and general shape. The stitches were uneven and there were stains that looked suspiciously like blood. There were places where the stitches had been obviously taken out and redone possibly multiple times. But Casca had made it. She had created this.

Guts couldn't remember if he had ever made anything for the purpose of making it. No, maybe for the purpose of killing, but not art.

Seeing the smile on his face, a smile he hadn't realized was there still, Casca said, “Look I already know it's bad, so no need to tease me.”

“No, I really like it.” Guts said sincerely.

Casca narrowed her eyes in skepticism. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Well,” she said, “If you like it so much, why don't you keep it.” 

“Okay.” 

Guts put the cloth in his pocket. Casca wasn't expecting that. 

“What, are you going to show that to the guys or something?” Why was it hard to accept he liked her- something of hers? It's not like he ever mocked her, in fact Guts respected Casca a great deal. It was her that was always cold in the past. That was how he remembered it at least.

He answered her question with a look and she grew quiet.

“I'm sorry, that's not fair of me.” She said, the fragility returning to her voice, “Here you were comforting me in my selfishness and I don't even have the decency to thank you.”

“Nothing to thank.” He responded.

Casca stood up and saw the dark tear spots on his shirt. Their eyes met and Guts thought of something, “The next time I go, I - um,” he wasn't blushing but he could feel his face and neck heating up, “Two people looking for a dream will probably have a better chance than one.”

She looked at him oddly and smiled shyly. 

“Thank you.” Casca said quietly, and then flashing a look of determination quickly swept in and gave him a kiss on the cheek. She then effectively ran away as dignified as she could, his eyes following her retreat until she turned the corner and was out of sight.

He stood up and turned back toward the balcony. Griffith was still talking to the princess, she seemed to be enraptured in his words. Although it hurt now, Casca was strong and had sense to her, this would all work out for the best. Or was he just thinking that because she had kissed him? Either way, the future was full of opportunity. 

Turning the opposite way Casca went, Guts continued his stroll down the breezeway.


	2. The Unicorn Hunt

About a week from then, Guts, Casca, and Rickert found themselves on a hunting trip for a Unicorn. Unsurprisingly, things didn't go as planned.

“You seem to be popular.”

Casca looked up at the large swordsman as they trotted on their horses. “Hmm?”

“The gossip.” Guts explained, “I heard some of the men talking about it.” 

“Oh.” She sighed, “That. It must be bad if even you’ve heard about it.”

“What's that s’posed to mean?” He protested, but he lacked any bite in his tone.

“I mean you have a one track mind.”

He rolled his eyes. She wasn't wrong.

They rode in silence for a few minutes, sun dappling the path before them. It really was the perfect day for a ride, not too warm, not too cold, despite the circumstances it was rather pleasant.

“So is it true?” He asked bringing back up the subject Casca seemed to want to drop. 

“We’re on a hunt put on by some man who wished to gain my favor and was horribly disappointed Griffith insisted you and Rickert come along.” Casca cast him a dry glance, “So I don't know, what do you think.”

He smirked, “He does watch you closely, like a wolf at its prey.” 

Casca shuddered with disgust. “Don't remind me.” She said, “I'm just glad I was able to get away. But poor Rickert.”

“Don't worry, Rickert’s so busy with that crossbow he probably doesn't even notice we’re gone. Besides,” Guts leered, “I don't think Rickert’s his type.”

Casca leaned over the gap between their horses to punch him. “Shut up.” But she was laughing as well, which ruined any effect she might have had.

It was true though, the Nobleman wouldn't leave Casca alone. The whole point of this trip was to impress her, but it was fruitless. Especially considering the company she brought. Griffith may not have much time for them anymore, but he still looked out for the Band of the Hawk. Even if he was still mad at Guts. 

Casca received a lot of male attention, from her soldiers as a big sister/mother figure despite the fact she was younger than most of them, and the wooing from the noblemen. Guts could tell the latter kind bothered her but there wasn't much she could do that wouldn’t seem rude by the noble’s standards.

“How was it before you made that big declaration of ‘I won't even consider a man who can't best me in combat’.” He asked, saying the last part in a falsetto mockery of her.

“What was that?” She laughed

“What was what?”

He smirked while Casca rolled her eyes. “Never mind,” She grumbled. “And to answer you, worse than you can imagine. I was like some rare beast to them, and some of them didn't even want me as a wife or something, but a mistress. It was horrible.”

“Mhmm.” Guts agreed, “But why such high criteria? You'll stay an old maid forever.” He laughed, “I thought all girls dreamed of marriage.”

“Hey!” Casca protested, but Guts continued.

“Besides, the only ones who can fit that standard are me and Griffith, and Griffith is engaged.”

“So you’re saying the only man I can marry is you?” She questioned.

“I guess so.”

Casca was taken aback by his honesty.

“I mean,” He tried to back peddle, “You're the one who made up the rules.”

He surpassed her expectation when he didn't say-

“And why would I want to marry you?” Guts said, “It's not like we don't see each other too much as it is.”

“So I'm unpleasant to be around?”

“Total pain.” He quipped, attention suddenly at the rustling bushes ahead. “So are supposed to shoot it or…” Guts started to reach for his sword. Of course he wanted to use his sword; ever since the end of the war he would use any chance to swing that thing.

Casca glared at him.

“I was going to say drive it back to the rest.” He defended, trying to make it seem like he was reaching for his crossbow, “I've only been on like, one of these things.”

Sure he was, Casca sighed, but answered anyway, “This is a unicorn hunt, that's why he said I must come and why you are here now.”

He looked at her uncomprehending. 

“So technically I should be sitting somewhere singing to attract the unicorn and you can go tell the others.” She explained. “But I suggested I go to it.”

He still looked confused, “Why?” He asked.

“Because I grew tired of waiting and didn't want to sing.”

“No.” Guts said, “Why do you have to do the singing and stuff. I mean, sure you're pretty, but I don't think horses care. Probably not unicorns either.”

“Don't you know the legends of unicorns?”

Guts shrugged. “They're horny horses, right?” He joked.

Casca rolled her eyes at his immaturity, saying, “But you know why we’re doing this? The best way to capture, and to this extent kill, a unicorn is by luring it to sleep on a virgin's lap. And if the virgin herself isn't enough then singing may help.”

Guts hummed in response. “So that's the real reason you didn't refuse?” He asked, “They need a virgin and you didn't want them to think you weren't one.”

Casca nodded, “Although I still am a mercenary, not exactly a virtuous maiden.” She said, “Court life is a bed of snakes.”

“If even you grow tired of it, I would've gone mad.”

He probably would've, Casca thought, Guts wasn't made for staying in one place it seemed. No matter who was there.

The ride continued until they came across a clearing in the woods. The meadow was dappled in wildflowers and sunlight, a strange energy seems to flow through it. The flowers let out a subtle smell and it was strange how they seemed confined to one side of the stream they had to cross to get to it. It seemed almost magical.

“You should try to bring a unicorn here.” Guts said. 

“What? Why?” Casca asked, “Do you want to help that noble?”

He looked kind of sheepish. “I just,” He started, “Thought it would be cool to see one.”

After a moment of awkward silence, Casca admitted, “So would I.” She added rather downcast, “But I don’t think they exist anymore, if they ever did in the first place.”

At that, a far off look went over Guts’ face before he answered, “Well, if you sing it may come or it may not and we’ll be no worse for wear. Sing.”

“Who do you think you are bossing me around?” Casca teased, “Griffith?”

“So you’d sing for Griffith, but not for me?” He chuckled, “You wound me.”

“Oh, shut up, you’ll live. Besides, Griffith wouldn’t ask me to do something humiliating…”

They shared an awkward look. Griffith had asked her to do something humiliating. She had to lie next to a stranger for 3 days while naked, and while the Band of the Hawk didn’t think less of her, it only confused her on how Griffith saw her. Apparently she was warrior enough to command troops, but still woman enough to be asked to warm a man. An unconscious wounded man, but still. 

“Why would it be humiliating?” He asked. Casca followed his train of thought, sure her singing wasn't the best, but she could carry a tune. 

“I don't exactly know the right kind of songs.” she confessed.

“Like?” He prompted.

“Hymns,” she answered, “Poems, pretty stuff. I know a little, but not well enough to be confident.” A little embarrassed she said, “The only songs I do know well are battle chants, some rather raunchy drinking songs, and a few children's songs.”

“You know more than me. Grew up in a mercenary band, don't have any kid songs.”

He didn't seem bothered by the lack of childhood. Perhaps he was past that, or accepted, but the mentioning of the mercenary band seemed to shake him slightly. Someday she’d make him tell her.

He continued talking, “I would go with those then to lure it out.”

“Okay…” Casca conceded, “but you have to sing too.”

“I don't know any of the songs remember?”

“You did that on purpose!” She accused, but dismounted her horse all the same. Guts also dismounted and took both the horses reins to secure them to sturdy tree branches. “Doesn't matter.” Casca declared, “I know the perfect song. Just repeat after me.”

She sang a song she remembered her older sister teaching her, a repeating song where one person said a line and the rest repeated until the chorus which was easy and repetitive enough to learn fast. The lyrics were mostly nonsense rhymes and some made up words, which she improvised when she forgot.

Guts looked uncomfortable, probably more so than he let on, but he played along anyway. It was strangely sweet to see him do that, a side she was sure few people got to see.

By the end of the song they were both wearing smiles. The feeling of the situation had somehow shifted from awkward to warm and strangely close. The rest of the world seemed to fade away and it was only them.

“Any unicorns?” Casca asked, eyes focused on Guts and his soft smile.

Not looking anywhere beyond her, he responded, “Not that I can see.”

There was a current in the air, something that made her want to get closer to him. It wasn’t that special, just a song, a silly nonsense song to draw out a unicorn of all things. It shouldn’t illicite these silly feelings. 

No these had been in the works for a while, she realized as they grew closer, these feeling were at least a year old, maybe more. Not as silly as she would want.

“What a shame.” Casca said rather breathlessly. The look in his eyes was so tender it melted her heart a little and it endeared her even more to this stubborn swordsman.

But then something caught her attention. It wasn't a sound exactly, but the feeling of a presence entering her perception. And then she saw it.

Somehow camouflaged despite being pure white, the creature gliding towards her. Casca gasped at its other worldliness, but doesn’t dare speak as not to scare it away. Not that she could scare such a creature. A spiral horn is on its forehead and a wild mane danced in some wind only it could feel. In a way it reminded her of Griffith, but perhaps only superficially. 

She reached out her hand, and the unicorn moved its muzzle to meet it. Tears welled up in her eyes but she didn’t cry. The unicorn stared back clear eyed. It felt like hours passed as the girl and the unicorn gaze upon each other, but in actuality it is but a moment.

Guts, so keen on watching the strange interaction, almost missed the sound of galloping coming towards them. He turned just in time to see the lord firing a crossbow.

Without thinking, Guts moved to block the arrows from hitting Casca. The lord had been using Rickert’s bow which could fire shots in rapid repetition. He blocked most of them with his sword, but a couple embed themselves in his arm.

The movement broke Casca out of her trance and the unicorn ran away like a shimmer over a river.

“What are you doing?!” Lord Eustace shouted, “You’re letting it get away!”

Guts didn’t say anything and checked to see if Casca was okay. She looked startled, as if jarred from a deep sleep. Besides that she seemed alright, no arrows sticking out of her. Good.

He then walked briskly over to the lord and threw him off his horse.

“What are you-” He hit the ground with a thump. 

Rickert rode in, “Lord Eustace, how did the bow-” He stopped mid sentence he saw the whole scene. Guts moved to sheath his sword and noticed the arrows still in his arm. Great. Casca would probably scold him twice as much now. “Guts! Your arm,” Rickert exclaimed, “What happened?”

“I’ll tell you what happened,” Lord Eustace blustered, “I had the beast in my sights, a perfect shot, and this- this oaf got in the way!”

“Casca was in the way.” Guts said, ripping an arrow out of his arm.

“I had a clear shot, my aim was true.”

“Doubt it.” Guts said under his breath, but said for all to hear, “That’s why you spread fire willy-nilly.” He pulled another arrow out of his arm.

“What Guts said is true.” Casca said, speaking up for the first time, “If you had aimed correctly Guts would not have been hit.”

Guts didn’t know how true that was, but appreciated the sentiment and support.

Lord Eustace didn’t dare talk back to Casca. Guts saw the dangerous glare in her eye and thought it looked strangely beautiful when not directed at him. Who was he kidding, Casca just had beautiful eyes; even when she was glaring at him he could appreciate that. In a totally not weird way.

The noble shakily got to his feet and picked up the bow to place it in a pack on his horse.

Casca walked over to Guts with a rag in her hand. She tore it into two pieces and pressed them to the wounds. Her hands weren’t overly gentle, but the attention was nice all the same. Casca sent one final glare at Eustace, who took off on his horse, before she focused more on patching Guts up. He went to say thanks, but noticed Rickert was still staring in concern. 

“Rickert.” Guts called out, “Your bow needs some adjusting, these bolts wouldn’t put down a badger.”

Rickert nodded, a smile returning to his face, “I told Lord Eustace you two would be fine, especially when together! I mean falling off a cliff and fighting a hundred soldiers must make everything else seem like cake in comparison.”

Rickert was a good kid, mature enough to fight in battle and hang out with a band of mostly adults without too much trouble, but it was times like this that showed the things he still didn’t think about. Sure, Guts wasn’t much better in that respect, but in this specific situation, and his complicated relationship with Casca made it easier for him to get it. If this lord was trying to woo Casca, however dumb that was, then Rickert telling him how close she was with another man, even if it wasn’t like that… exactly, was not going to make him happy to say the least.

“Rickert,” Casca said, “Could you go back to the camp and get the medical supplies ready, Guts and I will follow shortly.”

Rickert almost asked a question, Guts could see it, but he stopped himself when he realized it wasn’t a request. “Oh, uh sure!” He said, “I’ll see you back at camp.” 

Once he was alone again with Casca, Guts focused on her. She looked angry.

“What the hell was he thinking? He couldn’t hit a tree in a forest-” Casca ranted once Rickert and Eustace were out of hearing range, “He couldn’t hit a unicorn.” When Guts didn’t respond she turned her anger on him, “And you! What were you thinking?!”

“I wasn’t.”

“Exactly,” She chided, “And that’s part of the problem.”

Guts opened his mouth to speak but was cut off.

“Don’t go saying it wasn’t a big deal or some other bs. You’re bleeding because of me!”

“I’m bleeding because of that idiot.” He grumbled, “Not you, or even that creature.”

That subdued her slightly. Like she was just remembering the unicorn and their interaction.

“Yeah.” she said. “I-” Casca grabbed his hand, surprising Guts. She pressed it to the most heavily bleeding arrow wound before he could comment on it. “We need to get you back to camp and bandage these properly.”

“Uh, yeah.” He shook the thoughts that had arose when he thought she wanted to hold his hand. 

They walked to the horses where they were still tied up and rode back to the camp. The rest of the ride is uneventful except for when Casca sent a worried glance at Guts. He has had worse injuries before and Guts wasn’t really hurt, and she knew that, but despite all that it bothered her a great deal. Maybe it was because he did it to protect her, because she wasn’t paying attention, but that didn’t seem quite right either.

He merely glanced back and smiled. A smile like the one he gave her after they sang and a warm feeling bloomed through her body. Whatever the reason for her unfounded worry and these warm feelings, Casca was eager to find out.

LATER AT THE CAMP… 

After the medic had patched up Guts a little better, he went back to practicing. It was something to clear his mind and with all that had been going on, Guts needed his mind to be cleared.

Rickert had showed him the bow that had shot Guts. It was something of a hobby the kid had picked up, tinkering with stuff. He was pretty smart and getting good at it. Guts wasn’t an expert on bows, but after being shot Rickert quizzed him about what was wrong with it.

Casca had hovered around him until Lord Eustace had come and tried to apologize. Casca in an effort of not being too rude (and thus reflecting poorly on Griffith) had gone along with it. Some of the other men had wanted to hear the story of the unicorn and so she had been pulled away from Guts. Not that he cared… much.

So now he was in a clearing behind the camp, swinging his sword despite the medic advising him to rest and the overall exhaustion from the day’s activities. Guts didn’t have anything better to do; his two friends busy, Rickert trying to tweak the bow and Casca probably being wooed. 

Ugh, gross. 

Part of him wanted to swoop in and demand she trained with him or something but that would just embarrass her. And it probably wouldn’t even work as the nobles would probably want to watch. Her situation really wasn’t great and Guts was happy he didn’t have to deal with the same thing.

When Guts noticed his swings becoming less uniform he straightened up and pushed those thoughts out of his head. They distracted him and made him feel weird. And just as he cleared his brain of worry and plan making (although the thought of her dark eyes and tan skin persisted) she showed up.

“Sorry I took so long.” Casca said, walking into the clearing.

Guts stayed in a ready stance for a moment before relaxing slightly and looking at her. “There wasn’t a schedule or anything.”

“Are you okay though.” She asked, worry filling her voice, “I know you think you’re alright, but-”

“I’m fine Casca.”

They maintained eye contact until she conceded.

“It’s just, that piece of sh*t didn’t even really apologise. He just sort of said sorry for scaring me. Scaring me, can you believe that.” Casca huffed, “And when I said in front of his men that he shot you he didn’t even pretend to feel bad. I just about wrung his neck. It’s just so- so-”

“-Annoying?” He finished.

“To say the least.” She grumbled. “I just wish there was someway to be done with him and his lot.”

And idea struck Guts. He looked away briefly, but then went back to look at her. No, impossible… but…

“There is a way.” He said, “If they thought you were already taken…”

Casca was looking at him curiously. “What are you saying?” She asked.

“I mean, what I said.” He rested his sword on his shoulders, “If you’re already with someone men will stop trying to win you.”

“I’ve already thought of that,” Casca sighed, “I don’t think I could keep up a lie that big, and I don’t have the time or opportunity for the real thing.”

“You wouldn’t have to lie if it were the truth.” Guts said, “If he were to be away for long periods of time and not talkative at the best of time, no one would bat an eye.” He said the next part softer, “Or you could leave. I wouldn’t mind the company.”

“Are you suggesting…” She replied after a few moments of silence.

“Just a thought.” He said, sitting down, hoping Casca would drop the subject. The gravity of Guts indirectly asking for her hand hit him, reddening his cheeks a little. 

Casca sat down next to him still a little flustered from his proposal. It was a little awkward until she broke the quiet with, “Was that real- do you think-”

He shrugged, “I dunno.”

“But that was a real unicorn.” She said, “How is that possible? I thought we were on a wild goose chase.”

“I guess a singing maiden lured it out.”

“So you think I actually did it.” She said in a much younger voice. “Me? A mercenary who’s killed more than I care to remember, was able to draw the attention of something so pure?” Casca looked emotional again. “When I was little I had always wanted to see one… and now… why?!” She turned her attention to Guts now, “And you, you don’t seem in anyway shaken by this.”

“I was.” He said, “When I saw it, I was.” She continued to look at him while he stared at the ground. “You being shot at sort of ruined some of the majesty. But…”

“Have you ever seen something like that before?” Casca asked.

Guts thought about it a little. Nosferatu Zodd came to mind, but this was different, nicer.

“I may have seen a unicorn before,” Was the answer he settled on, “but sometimes I think I remember Fairies. I’m not sure though, it was a while ago.”

“Were you alone when you saw them?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe I should go on a journey alone with you than.” She laughed, “You seem to attract all sorts of fantastical things.”

Guts smiled along with her, but in his mind her coming away with him was no joke.


	3. Casca's Conversation with the Princess

The needle pricked her finger for what felt like the hundredth time. At least this time it didn’t draw any blood.

“Oh dear,” said the Princess, “Would you want another thimble Lady Casca?”

“No thank you, your highness.” Casca was already wearing two. Another thimble would probably hinder more than help.

The Princess, seemingly satisfied with that answer, went back to her embroidery. Princess Charlotte's embroidery was nice and neat, her hands moving as comfortably with the needle and thread as Casca was with a sword. She had mastered this woman’s art and made Casca’s attempts look like children’s work.

Truth be told, the last time Casca had sewed anything for fun was before she left home. She could mend clothes well enough, marginally better than the men (but that was largely due to their own apathy). Casca had probably stitched as much skin on Guts alone than she had on any clothes. Although out of the Band of the Hawk Gaston was probably the best, much better than she was. He had gotten a lot of practice as some of the men would pay him to repair their clothes, so it was no surprise really. And now he was living his dream of owning a tailor shop.

His dream…

Guts had just returned from his year long wandering- er- training journey to find his dream. It was for Griffith’s wedding; Guts had heard about the tournament that was going to be held before the actual wedding. Was there nothing more he thought of than his sword?

The oaf, she thought bitterly, He would probably give an arm and an eye to continue to swing that thing. To have such single mindedness. Casca sighed. At least the training had worked, his physique, while always impressive, had seemed even better somehow. Although, it may just have been his absence that made him feel different, and Casca would never admit that. The needle poked her again.

“-Distance makes the heart grow fonder…” the princess prattled on, but then noticed Casca’s spacy state, “I don’t mean to pry, but you’ve been sighing and dreamy eyed for as long as you’ve been here.”

Casca straightened in her chair, “It’s nothing your highness, I’m just tired.” It wasn’t a lie, as while technically Midland was at peace Casca still kept the band of the- no the Holy White Phoenix Knights in shape. if it weren’t for them she wouldn’t have anything to do, her life outside of Griffith and the military was sparse at best. It kept her thoughts busy, not like now…

“I must be a tyrant, keeping you like this.” The princess said lightly, “You may leave if you wish.”

Casca objected immediately, “No, this is actually a rest, I would just make more work for myself.” She admitted rather sheepishly, “I haven’t been in the company of a woman for sometime. It’s…” She tried to find the word, “Refreshing.”

The princess giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. “I suppose as a lady knight one would find herself surrounded by men. How is it?”

“One gets use to it.” Casca thought about it, “The men I command treat me like a commander, with respect and loyalty, and the other commanders treat me like a sister in arms.” She laughed, “Honestly I think sometimes they forget I’m a woman in the first place. Well all except…” She drifted off, not realizing she had spoken the last part aloud. All except Guts. After he had saved her from the cliff fall and her own stupidity it was hard to think he would deny her that. She didn’t understand why she hoped that. She didn’t know if she wanted to know.

“All except?” The princess prompted.

Casca blushed with embarrassment, “Oh, ah- nothing- No one.”

“If I may be so bold to suggest the Lady Casca has taken a fancy to someone.” She said in a controlled manner, then betraying her youth burst, “You can tell me who. I promise I won’t tell.”

The first thought that raced through Casca’s mind was Griffith, but no, that wasn’t right, not anymore. A year ago, maybe less she could have said Griffith and meant it, but now after living the aftermath of Guts leaving, her eyes were opened. Griffith would never view her as a woman, or an equal for that matter. She was a sword, a useful tool and before that had been enough, now it wasn’t. The truth was she was lonely. Surrounded by her friends and she was selfish enough to be lonely. But nobody had time for her, as all of their schedules conflicted and people moved on with their lives. All except for Guts who just waltz back into her life like nothing had happened, like he didn’t just abandon her- 

“Is it Griffith?” The princess asked, “Because I won’t be mad, half the ladies in the country are in love with him,” She paused, “If it is him we may have more in common than anyone could think.” 

“Don’t misunderstand me princess, for while I admire and respect Griffith a great deal, my feelings for him are not of that nature.” Casca was impressed at her own eloquence, “Perhaps when I was younger, but no longer.”

The princess studied her and with a calculating look in her eyes said, “That may be… but that doesn’t change the fact that there is a man whom you want see you as a woman.” Seeing the embarrassed look on Casca’s face, Princess Charlotte continued, “The thought of a warrior maiden in love, it's just so romantic, like an epic poem.”

“I wouldn’t say in love.” Casca mumbled, then speaking clearer said, “It’s not that I wish he would think of me like that, but that he could never forget that I am a woman.” Not that he cares, Casca thought, not in anyway that matters.

“Oh.” The princess was blushing now, “You don’t mean-”

Casca interrupted her, “Whatever you’re thinking, no.” The princess seemed almost disappointed and Casca tried to explain, “He just… He’s saved my life and I’ve saved his, and we’ve had to share body heat before because of fever, and this is just making it sound worse.”

“You are one of the best fighters in the Band of the Hawk, I mean,” The princess corrected, “The Holy White Phoenix Knights, it seems strange that you would ever need help.”

“Everyone needs help sometimes, your highness.” Casca replied, “Even the strongest fighters.” Even if they didn’t realize it, Casca thought to herself, even if they think they didn’t need anyone.

“And you are one of the strongest fighters, I’ve seen you training the troops, and with your announcement.” The princess gushed, “You’d have to be very confident to make a proclamation like that!”

“I guess so,” Casca said bashfully.

“Of course Griffith probably can probably beat you, Oh I mean no offence!” The princess continued.

“No offense taken,” Casca replied, “I learned a lot from him, but I don’t think I’ve overtaken him yet.” 

“Yes, I’ve seen him train with the sword, it’s like he’s dancing.” The princess was practically swooning, “I don’t think anyone can beat him, that’s why I said, it wasn’t a slight against you personally.”

“Well, all except-” Casca stopped herself. She didn’t know how much the princess knew. Griffith was sensitive about Guts. Casca knew how important they were- are to each other, Guts in wanting to be equals or friends, and Griffith claiming not to care. Even though they were both wrong, Griffith was talking out of his butt and Guts chose to think deeply about the wrong subject. 

Although, in Casca’s current situation she found herself relating to Guts more and more. To run away from it all to find herself sounded heavenly, to escape all that responsibility, but it was the responsibility that kept her. Guts may be able to abandon all of them with no second thoughts, but she couldn’t. And now he was back, acting like he wasn’t gone for a year. If only Griffith and him had talked it over, but she knew that wouldn’t have worked either; they were both too stubborn.

“The tall swordsman.” The princess said, snapping Casca out of her thoughts. “The scary one, with the scar on his face, is he the one?”

“Yes. He’s the one.”

“He looks very strong. Stronger than Griffith, or any other man.” The princess continued her babbling, “If anyone could beat Griffith I’d say it was him, although Griffith is strong, he just doesn’t look it as much.” She then looked strangely at Casca. Casca could tell she was thinking of saying, ‘the same goes for you,’ but thought better than lying. Casca knew she had muscles, more prominent than what would befit a lady of the peerage, but she wasn’t the average lady.

The princess looked down at her stitching. While they had been talking her design had continued to be worked upon, while Casca’s had been forgotten. Focusing once more on her embroidery, Casca noticed the tangled mess it had become. She undid a couple stitches and attempted to fix it.

“Guts is very strong.” Casca agreed, “But he is a fool. He’s reckless, no concern for others, no concern for himself.” The ‘no concern for me’ she almost said surprised her; it was quite selfish. “All he cares about,” She continued, “Is his sword and how much he can wield it.”

The princess looked up to see Casca’s pained expression. “Well, this has turned to a rather dark mood. May I ask a lighter question?”

Casca nodded.

“What is this ‘Guts’ real name?”

Casca was taken aback and slightly amused. “Beg your pardon, Princess, but I don’t understand.”

“It’s just,” She explained, “Mercenaries have rather gruesome nicknames, and it isn’t exactly a normal name, and I wonder what sort of mother would name her son ‘Guts’, or what sort of man would like to be called that?” She concluded, “It must be a nickname.”

“Sorry Your Highness, but as far as I know that is his real given name.” Casca smiled despite herself. “His nickname is ‘Hundred Man Slayer’ which isn’t much better.”

“Oh how terrible!” The Princess giggled, “The poor child.”

That train of thought made Casca slightly rethink naming her daughter ‘Viscera.’ Sure it was totally wizard and the perfect name for a mercenary, but probably not the ideal name for a little girl. Casca would have to consult Guts on growing up named Guts, how it had impacted him being named after internal organs. 

Although Casca had a feeling that was the least of his childhood trauma. Something he had said in his sleep the first night she met him. He would cry out and at first she thought it was from the pain, but she soon found out it was from nightmares. He would call out for help, for Gambindo or something to save him, or beg forgiveness and how he didn't mean to. He was around her age when he joined the Hawks so about 15, but when when he was speaking in his sleep it was the voice of a child. Casca could only speculate, but Guts must have had a poor childhood indeed. Not that she would tell anyone that.

“I remember a year ago, at the ball celebrating Midland’s victory, one of my friends took quite a liking to him. She was so sure his gruff exterior was just a front. She’ll be so disappointed to find out her knight is named Guts and is exactly how he appears.”

They shared another laugh at this, and Casca found herself strangely pleased to know that other women would be put off by the pure fact of his name. Not that he ever took any interest in them. 

Had she ever seen him take interest in women? When she’d first met him he didn’t want to be touched by anyone, but then after… no, Sure he would drink with the rest, but when they went to brothels or to camp followers, Guts never participated, not that she noticed at least. Maybe he was already in love with someone, but probably he just never thought about those sort of things. But he must, another part of her argued, all men do, all women do, why would he be any different. Why does she care?

They spent the rest of the time talking about more trivial matters as the embroidery was finished. Casca’s ended up looking more like a child’s, while the princess’s was uniform and practiced. It was the symbol of the Band of the Hawk, blue on a white square of cloth.

The princess, seeing this, handed the one she did over to Casca saying, “I have too many of these things as it is, and it is rather complicated. Perhaps you could use this one as a reference if you want to practice. Only if you want it, that is.”

Casca couldn’t very well refuse a monarch, and in truth her pride wasn’t much hurt by it, so long as certain parties didn’t find out. She knew she wasn’t very feminine, but in her line of work she didn’t need to be. Casca took the handkerchief with a quiet, “Thank you.”

“Oh dear, look at the time!” The princess exclaimed, “Griffith asked to meet me in the garden soon.” She sighed dreamily, “He’s so, so wonderful, and I get to marry him!”

Yes, Casca thought as she congratulated the young princess yet again, I have no need of that sort of relationship, I am a sword. I am Griffith’s sword and that has to be enough.

Casca could feel her chest tighten as her heart hollowed, growing ever more fragile. But swords didn’t need hearts, so she would need to learn to live without one.


	4. Shall We Dance

“I just don’t get why I have to learn it.”

Casca sighed. Of course he wouldn’t, “Well,” She said, “I had to learn how to dance for one of the dinners I attended, and at Griffith’s wedding it’ll be expected, you don’t want to make him look a fool.”

Guts grumbled at this.

“I’ll look like a fool if I do; I don’t dance.” He argued.

Casca studied him for a moment before deciding on taking a different approach, “Oh, the big strong swordsman is scared of a little dancing?” She taunted.

He furrowed his eyebrows.

“I can take on a hundred men, but the dance floor is too intimidating,” She continued in a mock version of his much deeper voice. “My giant sword is a compensation for-”

“Okay, enough of that.”

She smiled. “It’s really not all that hard.” Casca encouraged, “And all of the men, including Griffith know how to dance, it’s the mark of a gentleman.”

Guts shared her smiled, “I’m not exactly a gentleman.”

“Maybe not, but you never know, it may come in handy. Besides,” Casca blushed at this, “I need to practice and you’re the only one with any free time.”

“But you’re teaching me. Wouldn’t it be easier to practice with somebody who already knows?”

“Teaching is a good way of reviewing.” Which was true, she told herself, the only two reasons she had asked him; she needed practice and he was the only one with any free time. It wasn’t like she was creating excuses to spend more time with him before he inevitably left again.

Guts was either tired of arguing or he knew he had little else to do as he finally conceded. “Fine. Whatever.” He said, “Teach me if it’ll help you.”

He stood up and set his sword to the side. They were in a small practice lot in a relatively remote section of the castle grounds. Few people dropped by, at from what Guts had told her, which was why the dance training was taking place here; Guts didn’t really want people to watch this.

Both he and Casca were in full armor, the original intent of this practice being combat. Casca wanted to spar someone she knew was out of her league before the tournament to make sure she wasn’t too cocky, and Guts had rather reluctantly accepted. After a few rounds she had suggested this.

“So would you like to learn the line dances or partner dances first?” She asked.

“Dunno, which do you need the most?”

“Oh, ah-” Casca was surprised, Guts took his role of ‘I’m helping you help yourself’ well, “The line dances are easier to avoid and less people pay attention to you, so I guess partner.”

“Okay.”

“You don’t understand what that means, do you.”

“I’m not stupid, It’s the one where people come up to you and ask.”

Casca studied him, “Pretty much.” She relented, “So first you bow.”

Guts did an awkward nod. “No, no. You have to bend from the waist.” She corrected. Casca demonstrated a very noble bow. Honestly, bowing came to her easier than curtsying; no one curtsied in the military.

He copied her, although a little stiffer and less graceful than she. It was strange to see him do such a thing knowing his history with leadership and respect. Casca imagined him actually asking her to dance, her rebellious heart growing warm at the the prospect. She quickly quelled that line of thought.

“Better.” She said, “Now I curtsy.”

So she curtsied. She could see Guts smirking at her.

“What?” Casca demanded feeling self conscious.

“It’s just strange to see you dressed in armor curtsying.” He explained. “I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

“Oh, well, um.” She decided to move on, “Next you hold out your right hand.” So he did. “And I accept.” She placed her left hand in his and noticed despite herself how small her hands were in comparison to his. “Then you put your left hand on my waist and put mine on your shoulder.”

Casca tried to put her hand on his shoulder but found it uncomfortable as he was so tall, “I’ll put it on your arm, okay?”

He shrugged in response and hesitantly put his hand on her waist. As weird as it was to dance in full armor, it would have been stranger to dance without it. It would feel too intimate if they could feel each others warmth beyond hand holding, even then, both of them had so many calluses it was like another layer of armor.

“I think I’ll teach you the waltz first since the basic form is sort of easy.” She said, “Waltz’ are all in three and use a chain step.”

“What? Like a convict?”

Casca thought for a moment, “Not really, but you have to move in step with your partner or else you’ll step on their feet, so you could compare it to one.”

Maybe that wasn’t the best analogy to make, comparing dancing to being a prisoner. That was the reason he left, right? To be free?

Guts either didn’t notice or didn’t care and said, “It is annoying when people get out of step.”

So he’d been on one before? It wasn’t unheard of for mercenaries to to be captured, but it was surprising for him to be one of them. It must’ve been before Guts’ had joined the band of the hawk. 

“So I’ll walk backwards and you mirror my feet.” 

Guts looked down at her feet while she counted, “1 2 3, 1 2 3,”

He wasn’t terrible, and Casca encouraged him, “You’re doing good, just try to look up more.” It was fine now that she was in her everyday clothes, but dresses had rather low necklines, and while Guts had seen her naked, for it to seem he was staring at her chest would be unseenly.

Eventually they could go backwards and forwards with Guts only stepping on her toes a few times. He seemed more comfortable now, which was pleasing to see.

“Okay, I think we have the basic steps down.” Casca said, “Do you want to take a break?”

“Let’s get this over with.” Guts muttered, a determined look on his face. He never knew how to run away, did he?

“In that case, I’ll teach you the-” She had to think for a moment. “Tippy-toe thing.”

“Tippy-toe thing?”

Casca blushed from embarrassment, “Well, I don’t exactly remember the name, but it’s like step.” She let go of him and took a step back and went up onto her toes, “Tip toe, step, tip toe.” She stepped forward and repeated the motion. “Not too hard.”

“Ah- sure, yeah.”

She grabbed his hand and arm again and they resumed practice. For some reason Guts was having difficulties with this particular move. He kept getting out of sync with the timing. The first time it happened Casca went head first into his breastplate.

“Sorry.”

“Didn’t know I’d be needing my helmet too.”

“Now that would just look silly.”

“Like two swordsmen trying to learn to dance.” An idea hit Casca, two swordsmen learning to dance. “No wait, that's it!”

“What?”

“We have to dance like swordsmen. In battle you wouldn’t smash into your opponent just because they surprised you, you’d-”

“Anticipate their movements.” Guts finished.

“Why didn’t I think of this sooner! So let’s start again.”

It wasn’t night and day, but with this new line of thinking Guts would mess up less and less. Casca showed him a few more moves that he picked up quicker than she had. That irked her slightly, but then she remembered how uncomfortable her lessons had been. They were taking a break when she brought this up.

“You’re lucky to learn in such a comfortable environment.” She said

“How so?”

“You’re in your comfort zone learning from someone who respects you, hell we’re still wearing armor. I had to learn from an old man in a class full of children!”

“Really?” Guts seemed more interested now.

“Yeah, he was too busy for private lessons so I was stuck in the royal brats’ class. I also had to wear a dress the whole time, and not a very comfortable one either.”

“You said before you had to. Is it how I have to, or…”

“Griffith asked me.”

“...”

“He didn’t tell me, but at the banquet I was invited to there was a family that didn’t really like him and were planning to use me to humiliate him.”

“Sounds like something he’d do.” Guts finally said.

Casca nodded, “I was thankful for lessons, but I just, I wish he trusted me.”

If it had been Guts, Griffith would’ve most definitely told him the reasons, even if Guts didn’t need them. Griffith’s trust in Guts used to make her so angry, well it still did, but now it wasn’t exclusily at Guts. A silly notion to be mad at the person she owed so much, but she couldn’t control how she felt. Especially when she wanted to.

“Anyways,” Casca said, “You’re off to a great start.”

“Do you want anything from me?”

“What?”

“I mean, you are teaching me all this for free. Aren’t tutor’s generally paid?”

“I don’t want your money.” Casca answered.

He muttered, “Good, cause I don’t have any.” Before saying louder, “I could like, I dunno, teach you something.”

Casca couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her, “Like what? How to charge into battle without thinking?”

“What? You think I don’t have anything you’d want to know?”

“Besides what not to do?”

“Now I have to prove you wrong.”

She thought for a moment, “Well,” She decided, “I did tell you about my life before the hawks. Maybe you could do the same.”

He closed off immediately, “I- Those aren’t stories you’d want to hear.”

“Okay, then one question.” Casca steeled herself, “Who’s Gambino?”

Guts became visibly agitated, “Where did you hear that name?”

Casca was rather taken aback. She knew it was bad, but this was on another level; it was like when Guts first joined the hawks. “The first night you were with us.” She said, “You were crying out in your sleep, I thought it was from pain, but it seemed you were having fever dreams. You kept saying that name.”

He was still unhappy, the most upset she’d seen him since he’d returned. He opened his mouth to answer, but then shut it to mull over it a bit more. 

“Look, you don’t have to say anything.” Casca said deflated, “It’s obviously something you don’t want to talk about. I’m sorry I asked.”

Guts looked surprised at her lack of stubborness. There was a pause and his expression shifted to something unreadable. He threw an arm around her shoulder, startling Casca at the contact. Guts didn’t move away, saying almost conspiratorially, “He was like a father to me.” He squeezed her gently, smiled sadly, and removed his arm.

Casca stayed close to him still, shoulder to shoulder, pauldrons touching. There was armor too, not just on his shoulders, but around his heart. Around her heart too. Looking at his profile all she could think was that maybe it was time to grow past that. Maybe he-

Before she could articulate a response, a group of soldiers walked into the training area.

“I thought you said no one used this place.” Casca said. Luckily they were behind some crates and were yet to be found in their rather compromising position. Sure they had been closer before, but that was in front of the Hawks and they understood Guts and hers relationship, er- lack of any special relationship.

“I’ve never seen anyone, but I’m normally here at a different time.”

“So what? Do we stay here? And wait for them to leave, or just leave?”

“Technically I don’t think we’re supposed to be here.” He scratched the back of his head.

“Why didn’t you tell me that?” Casca yell/whispered.

“Didn’t seem important.”

“Didn’t seem important my-” Guts quickly covered her mouth as her voice had been steadily rising.

“Yell at me later, We’ve waited too long to leave without raising too many questions. We’ll sneak out the back.”

He let go of her mouth and though still mad, Casca had to agree; there were bigger fish to fry. Luckily, all of the men were practicing crossbowmanship and using the targets on the opposite wall of the rear exit. Timing it just right, Guts and Casca hurriedly crept out the back entrance. Once outside they breathed a sigh of relief. They attempted a casual stroll, but it may have come off as rather forceful.

“You fool.” Casca sighed, “Why do these things always happen to you?”

“Just lucky I guess.” He said and went to scratch the back of his neck, after a few moments a dismayed expression crossed his face, “My sword.”

Casca hadn’t even noticed his ridiculous sword was missing from the strap on his back.

“I must’ve left it…” He trailed off. This was odd, his sword was like an extension of his being, it was out of character for him to forget it.

“You’ll have to get it later.” Casca said.

“...Yeah.” Came his defeated reply.

After walking a few more steps Casca stopped. 

“You forget something too?”

“What? Oh, no, I just… The commanders were having a get together- for Griffith- I just remembered.”

“And?”

“...And did you know?”

“About the get together?”

She nodded.

“No.” He replied.

“Rickert told me you had to go.” 

“Did he now?” Guts raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, and he’ll whine my ear off if you don’t.”

“That doesn’t sound like Rickert.”

“Jeado and Pippin want to catch up more.”

“What about Corkus?” He was smiling, he knew.

Casca huffed, “Look. You’re going or I’m telling everyone what a great dance student you are.”

“You wouldn’t”

“Try me.” 

They stared each other down until again, Guts conceded with, “Fine, whatever.”

“Good. Great- See you there.” Casca started to walk away.

“Wait, Casca.” He called, stopping her. “Where is it?”

“Oh,” She laughed, “I’m so stupid, It’s at the usual place, you know? Although the name is escaping me right now. I know we went there a lot towards the end of the war.”

“The one that had that great brawl.”

“That doesn’t instill me with confidence you we’re talking about the same place.”

“No, cause you broke a table in it.”

“Oh, yeah, that one.” Casca was a little embarrassed, “Well, we’re meeting a little before sundown.”

He nodded, “Okay.”

They lingered a little longer than necessary before parting ways.

A little after sundown at the tavern no one could remember the name to, the former Band of the Hawk threw a party for their commander. In a corner, the Lady Commander of the Holy White Phoenix Knights and the former Raider’s Captain were having a conversation, something they found themselves doing more often.

“I wouldn’t actually tell anyone.” Casca admitted, “About the- well, you know.”

“Yeah, I knew you were bluffing.” He sat back in his chair.

“Really? Then why did you come.”

“I dunno.” He said indifferently, “You wanted me to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am aware the the waltz wouldn't have probably not been invented yet, however it is one of the few dances I know (along with the polka and swing). So please ignore that little inaccuracy. Also I feel like I just put the song 'shall we dance' from the 'king and I' on loop while I wrote this. so yeah.


	5. Casca has 'Woman Problems'

“How do you always find me?” Casca asked from her not exactly a hiding spot.

They were in a turrent off of the inner walls of city, the one around the castle. Through the cross shaped window she could see the city below, or the roads and fields beyond. Which is what she had been doing, trying to ignore the pain in her lower abdomen. The cramps were really bad this time around, causing her to throw up twice. Luckily it was a day off for her, a more common occurrence now with the royal wedding coming up. Normally it annoyed her, with so many important people showing up at the same place and same time it seemed you would want your military at their best, but in her current state she wasn’t complaining.

“It’s not like I go looking for you.” Guts replied, sitting on the steps in front of her. “Although I think someone was, some guy with money?”

She dropped her head, “Of course. Just what I needed.”

“You’re not well.” Guts observed, finally noticing her sweaty and pale pallor.

“So you noticed.” She winced as another wave of cramps rolled through her.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed if you’re sick.” He said. Him of all people, telling her to do something for her wellbeing. Him being concerned for her. Him- her woman’s heart, always stronger when she was like this, practically swooned.

“And have everyone find me when they go looking for me? No thanks.” She said, rubbing her stomach to try and sooth the pain. “And,” She continued, “I’m not exactly sick.”

Realization slowly dawned on him. He studied her as if to see if she looked any different, and exhaled loudly, “I’m glad I’m not a woman.”

She could feel herself grow angry despite thinking along the same lines while her womanhood caused her so much pain. Guts was an easy person to get angry at she found.

To the surprise of herself and Guts she shot back, “I’ve overheard some women talking about lovemaking. They were saying how if it were done right the woman feels better than the man.”

“...Really?” Guts asked, still shocked for her to say such a thing, “Can you…” He was searching for the words, “Confirm that?”

“Oh,” Any boldness she had possessed was out the window, “I’ve never- the women they, Have you?” 

Why’d she ask that? His personal life was of no concern to her, but he had asked her…

He frowned and reluctantly answered, “No.” He seem embarrassed by that, but for some reason it made Casca happy. Perhaps in that she wasn’t alone in this, she wasn’t some sort of anomaly, granted Guts was sort of an anomaly. “So is that what women talk about?” He asked.

“You’d be surprised, when their husbands are out of the room sometimes the content is as dirty as what you’d hear around a mercenary campfire.”

“I never would’ve guessed.” Guts said, “Guess what they say about women’s weaker constitution is a load of-.”

A wave of pain hit her before she knew it, causing Casca to hold back a whimper, it was worse than the ones before. This was pathetic, she’d survived wounds more life endangering than this and they didn’t make her want to cry as much as this did. That’s why she hid; Casca didn’t want anyone to see her be so weak, so vulnerable.

But Guts was here, and he was concerned.

“Is that normal?” He asked, moving closer to her. It was humiliating, except, he’d already seen her like this. 

“I- I think this is normal.” She said finally.

“Is there anything that can help?”

“There are herbs… Which are either too weak to make much of a difference or very rare and expensive. There’s one that can stop it and prevent pregnancies, but if taken often it becomes a poison.” She looked away from him, “And then of course there’s pregnancy, but that has its own… side effects.”

Guts thought a moment, “I don’t have much money, or know any herb merchants, but I could help you in the pregnancy department.”

Casca was taken aback. He wasn’t normally one to say such things.

“I’m kidding.” He was smiling, “And from what I’ve heard of child birth it more than makes up for nine months free of this.”

“...Yeah.” Casca finally said. Why’d he go and say that, because now she was imagining it. 

Him and her, together, like that. It made her skin feel warm, her woman hood throb not just from the bleeding. It was embarrassing. And their child! Oh their child would be a hellion, but it’d be their’s. She would love her child. She loved it even before it’s conception. 

It was wrong of her to have fantasies about Guts of all people, but at times, especially during this time of the month it felt out of her control. And who else would she think of? Griffith? Well, she had, in the past, but now especially since he was getting married it felt wrong. She loved Griffith, no doubt about that, but they weren’t like that. She didn’t love him as a woman loves a man, not exactly, not anymore. It was more complicated. 

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?” Guts asked.

When had Guts gotten so soft on her? Were they friends? After thinking for a moment she finally got over herself to ask, “Could you rub my stomach?”

“Sure.” He said slowly. He got down to sit with her. He was sizing her up, she realized, that’s why he hadn’t made a move yet. Before she could say anything Guts pulled her to rest between his legs, her back against his chest. “Figured it’d be awkward to pet you like a dog.” he said, and Casca could feel his voice vibrating through his chest. If she had been in less pain she would’ve found it very… stimulating.

He wrapped one arm around her, the other starting to rub in circles rather high on her abdomen. He flinched slightly when she moved his hand to the right spot on her lower stomach. It wasn’t night and day, but it soothed her slightly, and distracted her greatly. And being held, she hadn’t been held like this since she was very young. Although this embrace was a little different to those.

This one was in strong arms littered with scars. Through his chest she could feel his heartbeat and his breathing, both steady and strong. His smell was something she noticed as well, not good exactly, but definitely him and oddly comforting at the moment.

Her eyes drifted shut trying to focus on him and how he felt instead of her traitorous insides. “Thank you.” She said softly.

“It’s nothing.”

“Does this make us friends?” Casca asked, eyes half lidded.

“I’ve never done this with Griffith.”

“I’d hope not.” She said with a smile.

“But I would. Call us friends, that is.”

“I’m really thankful.” Casca said, tearing up a little.

The tears made him uncomfortable, “You’re tired, rest your eyes.”

“Really?”

“I was looking for a napping spot anyways.”

“When did you become so nice?”

He chuckled and didn’t answer. However, she was tired and he was so warm, and still trying to help alleviate her pain. She found herself drifting off, wondering what it would be like to fall asleep every night like this. In arms like these.


	6. Another Ball

It was the reception after Griffith’s wedding and Guts was tired. From the one other formal ball he went to, Guts decided he did not like them.

Currently he was trying to figure out which was more boring, the ceremony or the reception, because he really didn’t have anything better to do and it wasn’t like he could just leave (well, not without getting chewed out later). Since Griffith married royalty and was the general of Midland’s army, the ceremony had been long and traditional. Guts had never been to one before, so it was kind of interesting for the first 5 minutes and then it became torture. Guts had kind of wanted to ditch, but it was Griffith’s wedding and he was sitting next to Pippin who wouldn’t hesitate to hold him down. At least the reception had food, but it somehow lasted way longer.

At least the ladies had finally stopped trying to talk to him, which was a relief. Guts wasn’t really a people person, much less a ladies man. He didn’t know how Griffith handled all of the women. Well, the noble women could no longer throw themselves so blatantly at Griffith now after his marriage. He supposed some, maybe even most men enjoyed this sort of attention from women, but they, like most people, did nothing but annoy him. They thought he was a spectacle, not a real person, an oddity to flirt with while their husbands and families weren’t paying attention. Although, he wasn’t a total freak since he liked being around Casca. 

When had that happen? Maybe he was a freak after all. 

Searching the crowd for Griffith, Guts found him dancing with his new wife, the princess of Midland. Soon to be prince Griffith after the coronation. He looked happy enough, if not for the party, then for his dream. It was smooth sailing from here; all he had to do was wait for the king to die and Griffith would have his kingdom. Despite all that had happened between them, Guts was happy for him. 

Near Griffith, Guts could see Rickert dancing with an older lady, red faced and tired looking. Pippin was resting off to the side, not unlike what Guts was doing, but Pippin was actually just taking a break to drink, not complete avoidance. Corkus was trying to subtly grope a woman as they danced, but she didn’t seem to mind and they both looked rather drunk. The two people he couldn’t find were Judeau and Casca. Guts had entered the ballroom with Judeau, as he was the one who had convinced him to go, but he’d blended into the crowd soon after arrival. Guts hadn’t seen Casca all day. He was sure she would be here, but wasn’t sure he’d recognize her.

Her all gussied up was something else, it was a special version of her, a feminine Casca. Sure it was obvious she was a woman all of the time, but she, embraced it with that dress. Dressed like that she was a woman you’d go to war for. Well either way, he thought, men did go to war for her. There was a charm to her in armor, shining like her sword after leading to yet another victory, the smile on her face just as bright, and what on earth was he thinking? He let out a breath; it’d be rather cruel of him to swoop so soon after Griffith had been taken from her, or would it be perfect? Would it be what they both needed?

Leaning his head back, Guts stared at one of the chandeliers trying to clear his thoughts until a figure appeared in front of him. He looked at her slowly, flowers and ornaments in her hair, dark eyes, and ample bosom-

“Casca?!”

“It’s Lady Casca to you.”

He rolled his eyes, but smiled, “Sure thing, Commander.”

She looked around almost nervously before saying, “It’s rather stuffy in here. Would you care to accompany me to get some air?” She was looking at Griffith and the Princess. So it was that.

He shrugged and followed her outside. Once outside he asked, “Where did you learn to do that?”

“Hmm?” She looked embarrassed, “Oh, the exit strategy. Well, after to going to a few of these I found it easier to act like everyone else and blend in. It makes day to day life easier when you’re not the subject of every rumor.”

“And I thought Griffith was the strategist.”

“It’s not strategy, just survival.” She sighed. In that moment Guts finally took in all of the loveliness that was Casca, so strong, and yet, so delicate. She’d been like that more often since he’d gotten back, and it felt nice to be someone’s confidant again. Griffith and him had been like that, but what he and Casca shared was a little different. Okay, a lot different since Guts didn’t try and imagine what Griffith would feel like in his arms at night. Her doe eyes brought him back to reality, full of sincerity and a hint of sweetness, “I don’t think I told you this, but it’s nice to have you back.”

He looked out over the garden, fighting the heat that was creeping up his neck, “I feel like a fish out of water, but everyone’s doing all right, so it could be worse.”

She laughed, “You look like one too.” On a more serious note she added, “Everyone is doing well for themselves. Rickert’s found an apprenticeship with a blacksmith, Corkus has money prestige and women so he’s happy. I think Pippin found a girl, although he still keeps to himself about those sorts of things. And Judeau.” She laughed again, “I don’t know, but he seems happy enough. And then Griffith…” She drifted off more somberly, “Well you know Griffith.”

“You forgot about yourself.” 

That did nothing to lighten the mood as Casca rested her hands on the railing. “I think we already had this conversation.” Placing her head on her hands she sighed, “I don’t know what my dream is anymore.” She turned her head to look at him, “What about you? Where did your journey get you?”

“I don’t know exactly.” Guts admitted, “I came to the conclusion that my sword is apart of me and whatever my dream is must have something to do with that.”

“That’s all?” Casca laughed.

He frowned.

“It’s just,” She continued, “I could’ve told you that. Although,” She pondered, “You probably wouldn’t have listened to me.”

“Probably not.”

They both looked over the garden. It was quite something, despite the chill of the night and unfavorable weather. Then a thought hit him.

“Have you ever seen the royal garden.” He asked.

“No.” Casca looked at him questioningly, “Only the higher ups can go, hence the name.”

“But would you want to?” He persisted.

“What are you getting at?”

“Well,” He started, “I was just thinking. The Royals are all inside, plus most of the guards. They wouldn’t notice if two highly skilled mercenaries slipped in for a look around.”

“You, stealthy? Mr. red cape and monster sword?”

“Well I’m not wearing that now.”

“You aren’t, but we can’t. What if we’re caught?” Good, she wasn’t shooting him down like he thought she might.

“We won’t be. Besides,” He added, “You’re a Lady, Casca. Lady Knight, but dressed up like that you could pass for a princess.”

“Who’s ever seen a muscled princess. And who would you be in this plan?”

“I dunno, a bodyguard?”

“In this situation I would be a delicate highborn lady accompanied by some brutish bodyguard. It would never work.”

“Why not?”

“It wouldn't be proper, and would attract more attention than need be.”

“Okay, so I could be you brother.”

“That would be inconspicuous.”

True, they looked about as alike as a night and day. “You come up with something then.”

Casca thought for a moment, “You could be my husband. It can’t be that strange for a husband and wife to look around nice gardens.”

“Guess not.”

She signaled with her hand and said, “Go ‘operation sneak into garden.’” in her commander voice.

“Okay Lady Casca, We’ll be on our way.” He offered her his arm which she took with what looked like a hint of a blush.

The Royal Garden had grand wrought iron gates separating it from the outside world. There were two guards patrolling the grounds. Really too easy. Well, too easy if he had been wearing his normally clothing, in formal clothes it was just easy, and with Casca and her dress is was barely doable.

“Can you keep that from rustling?” He whisper yelled as they crept along the breezeway.

“I can’t help it.” She whispered back obviously frustrated, “You try wearing 30 pounds of dress and a crinoline cage.”

“Shh.” He grabbed her waist and pulled her closer to the wall with him, out of sight of the guard that had been nearing them. She was surprised at the sudden movement, luckily his chest absorbed any sound before it could be heard. She gave him a glare which he ignored until the guard was a safe distance.

“You could’ve warned me.”

“Yeah.” But Guts was moving already, not dwelling on how close they’d been. 

Casca lead the way now as they arrived at the gate. It wasn’t locked, but did groan slightly as Guts opened it. She hushed him and slipped inside. Guts followed after, closing the gate behind him. They continued to move stealthily until further in the garden.

“Wow.” Casca whispered as she gazed around in awe. Guts paused a moment to take in the garden.

It was certainly busy. Hedges, trees, and vines all trimmed to perfection. It felt very unnatural and fake to Guts, which he supposed it was. Most of the flowers were down blooming for the season, save for some stubborn snapdragons who were probably viewed as weeds. It was beautiful, but not for him.

Casca turned to him excited. “Come on!” She grabbed his arm and tugged him down one of the paths. He trudged after her, smiling because she was smiling. 

The next larger area they found had a pond and bridge with water lilies and lotuses in the dark water. A grassy yard was on the other side of the bridge and it must’ve been for picnic or something. Casca walked along the bridge, trailing her hand on the railing. A frog jumped into the pond creating a splash and ripples. She moved to the grassy knoll.

She went to lay down, although not without difficulty as her dress hindered her movements. Guts steadied her by holding her hands until she was laying down. A mischievous look flashed in her eyes and she pulled him down with her. 

He landed unceremoniously on top of her with a shout of “Hey ther-” before he knocked heads with her.

“Ow. You’re squishing me!” She complained as she tried to push him off. 

He rolled to the side and replied, “You’re the one who pulled me down. What did you think was going to happen?”

“I, well-” She stammered, turning to look at the stars, seemingly embarrassed, “The stars are beautiful.” She commented to change the subject.

Guts relaxed some and looked at the sky. “Yeah.”

“Although,” She continued, “If the moon wasn’t so bright we’d be able to see them better.”

Guts supposed she had a point. The moon, while no harvest moon, was full and bright and stifled the starlight. 

“One time, up in the mountains,” He started, remembering another starry night, “I had gone days without really seeing the sky, what with all of the trees, so then come nightfall I make it to a clearing and It was like a portal to another world. It was a new moon and the stars were like a river of dreams. It reminded me of the campfire thing you said, about dreams. It was like the cosmic version of that, like the hopes and dreams of every person on the planet.” He was solely looking at the sky now, searching for something, he didn’t know what, “I thought I must have a speck of light up there, even if it’s a small one, it must be there.” When Casca didn’t respond, Guts spied at her out of the corner of his eye. She was looking at him oddly, “What?” He asked.

“That sounds beautiful.”

“Yeah, I dunno.” He went back to star gazing.

“The Princess looked quite beautiful.” Casca said suddenly.

“Yeah.” Guts said cautiously.

“Some would say the most beautiful in all of Midland.”

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. Her silhouette was outlined by starlight giving her dark skin an otherworldly glow.

She continued, “I suppose they have to, she is the King’s daughter, but, she is pretty.” Casca spoke bitterly, “Pretty enough for Griffith to notice, as much as he notices that sort of thing.”

“I thought we already talked about this.” Guts said, “Griffith-”

“I know, just- just- You think I’m pretty, right?” She asked, “The noblemen do and I’m sure others as well.” She rolled so she was on her side facing him. “So tell me Guts, when you say I’m pretty is it because I’m a comrade in arms or because I’m a woman you desire?”

It took a few second for him to process what she said. “I- You-”

“Nevermind. You don’t have to answer that.” She then mumbled what sounded like ‘I don’t think I want to know.’

“Do you really want to know?” He asked, rolling to face her. She was closer than he thought, her expression so open, so fragile. He couldn’t trust his words to communicate what he was feeling, not with her like this. So impulsively, he kissed her.

Her lips were soft and he hoped desperately he wasn’t misreading her. He’d never kissed someone before, and while it ended as quickly as it began, it was good. 

When he pulled away, she buried her face into his chest, clutching at his jacket. He wrapped his arms around her. She was trembling and for a second he thought she was crying, but it soon became obvious she was laughing.

“What?” Did she think his actions were foolish, did she not feel the same way?

“I’m not laughing at you, it’s just, why didn’t we do this earlier and save all that heartache?”

He set her down on her back and kissed her again, saying, “Then let’s make up for it.”

She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck to kiss him, this one lasting a bit longer than the ones before. Her hands started feeling his chest and fiddling with the many buttons. In turn he let a hand feel her thigh and hip, only to be hindered by her many skirts.

Casca echoed his thoughts, complaining, “Too many buttons.”

When they finally broke apart, sobering a bit from their new closeness, Guts stood up helping Casca up as well, holding her a bit closer than before. Although it was hard to see by just the moonlight and because of her dark skin, he could tell she was blushing. “I think I want us out of these clothes, but I don’t think I’d be able to get back in them.”

“I wouldn’t mind.” He said, “But we should probably get back, it is a big day tomorrow.”

Casca nodded and straightened her dress and hair piece before linking arms with him. They made their way back through the garden a different way than before. It was calmer this time around, both trying to take the other in as much as possible before they entered the real world. So the two battle tested warriors strolled through lush gardens kissing and touching each other as lovers would. Is that what they would be now? Lovers? Sure they hadn’t exactly done anything drastic yet, but Guts sure wanted to. And he had a feeling Casca did too.

It was a new experience for Guts; to be so open to someone while neither of them were injured. Especially with Casca. Although perhaps it was fated since the day they met for this to happen. He couldn’t imagine how his younger self would’ve reacted to this, and Casca, how would younger Casca react to this turn of events? Probably horrified. But the past didn’t matter now, he decided, she felt right in his arms and that was all he needed.

So wrapped up in each other, both Casca and Guts failed to notice a guard turning the corner as they exited the garden.

“Halt!” He shouted, “Who goes there?”

Casca quickly turned to Guts and whispered, “Stay quiet, let me do the talking.”

He nodded and tried to channel the persona of nobility. Really it was just an impression of Griffith when he was in Duke- was it Prince now?- mode.

“Who, us?” Casca asked with an airy lilt to her voice.

“Yes. No one was to enter the royal garden this night.” He kept nervously looking at Guts.

“Oh…” When had Casca become such an actress? She played this part expertly. “Well, it’s just… I’ve never been to the capitol before and I do love gardens. I just begged my husband to show me and he is so kind he did. We didn’t know it was off limits and we were far too busy to go earlier.”

The guard looked back to Guts, probably not believing the kind part. Guts largely ignored him.

“And just who are you?” The guard asked accusingly and pointedly to Guts.

Casca ignored this and answered for him, “I am the Lady Cortana and this is my husband, Lord Bryant. Oh it is getting late! Dear, we have to get back.” She tugged on Guts’ arm, “Father will be so cross if we’re out too late.” Addressing the guard she said, “I apologise for entering the garden when we weren’t supposed to, I just didn’t know, neither did my husband, did you?”

“No.”

“See it was all a mistake and won’t happen again. Please don’t tell anyone, my father would be so embarrassed.”

Guts glared one more time and before the guard knew what had hit him they were gone.

After some speed walking they made it back to the reception.

“That was amazing.” Guts said close to her ear. It was too loud to whisper and be heard.

Casca smiled, their arms were still linked, “I’m happy we did it, I just hope that guard doesn’t cause any trouble.”

“He won’t.”

“I suppose we did a good job of tag teaming.” She laughed, “He seemed so confused.”

Guts had a hand on her waist, which she covered with her smaller hand, entwining their fingers. Their eyes met and a pull seemed to tug them closer to each other. This tender moment was crushed by the appearance of their knife wielding friend.

“Guts! Casca!” He greeted, “When I couldn’t find you earlier I thought for sure you left early”

“Yeah, well the party is kind of a dud.” Guts said, shifting away from Casca. Judeau being there reminded him they were no longer alone, and were in fact, surrounded by people.

“You look as lovely as ever.” Judeau complimented Casca. 

She blushed slightly and replied, “Thank you. It’s strange to see everyone dressed up again. We haven’t been all together like this since the victory celebration.”

Judeau looked at Guts, “Yes, It’s nice to all be here. Griffith’ll probably be king by the time it happens again.”

Guts rolled his eyes. They were trying to make him feel bad. It wasn’t like he was going to leave tomorrow, or even the day after that! Especially now that he and Casca were, well, whatever they were now. He just needed some time to figure everything out.

“So your company still the most over prepared force in the midland army?” Judeau asked.

“Oh, shut up.” Casca said, “Everyone else is just slacking.”

“Because we’re in peacetime.”

“For now! There’s no telling how long it’ll last.”

“It’s talk like that that starts wars.” Judeau said knowingly.

“And it’ll finish them too.”

Guts felt oddly left out of their banter. He was used to being out of the loop, but he wasn’t even a commander anymore, probably ever again unless Griffith had an attitude adjustment. He was pulled back out of lalaland when Jeado asked, “So where were you two for the past hour, I thought you left for sure.”

“Oh, you know, around.” Casca answered vaguely.

“Just around?” Judeau teased, smiling conspiratorially.

“Yeah.”

“We snuck out to the royal garden.” Guts answered.

“Really? Why?”

“Cause we could.”

Judeau sighed wistfully, “Espionage would be a good escape from all of this.”

“No good jobs?”

“Guts, you left before peace could truly settle over Midland and let me tell you, the one thing they don’t tell you about peacetime is how utterly boring it is.”

“That’s the truth.” Casca said, “The more secure you are the less there is to do. If nobility and royalty have lived this way for generations it’s no wonder they’re in the state they are now.”

“Griffith’ll probably be good for them then,” Guts said.

“At the very least he’d break up the inbreeding a bit.” Casca muttered.

“Casca!” Judeau said, but he was laughing all the same.

“What? all I’m saying is that after marrying cousins to each other for as long as they have, they are probably closer than cousins.” 

“I wasn’t saying you’re wrong, I mean, the king’s first wife was his cousin, right? And Princess Charlotte was to marry her cousin, well, before he-”

Yeah, that cousin Guts had killed. He’d killed a lot of people, more than he cared to keep count, but that was one he wouldn’t forget. He didn’t feel guilt or regret exactly, thinking like that in his line of work would eat you alive, but if he could’ve changed things he would have. 

Casca sent a worried glance at Guts before interrupting, “Griffith has also been reading up on economics and trade, as so no one will call him unfit for the job in peacetime.”

And now Casca was trying to protect his feelings. It wasn’t necessary, but sweet in a way, she cared about him and how he felt.

Judeau looked at her oddly, before saying, “Yeah, well speaking of his new duties I think he’s off to fulfill one right now. With the princess.” He seemed surprised at Casca’s reaction, or rather lack of one.

“Has the king left yet?” Casca asked, changing the subject. As much as the relizaion tonight had changed things, Guts was sure the Griffith business was still a touchy subject. What was Judeau trying to pull? Was he testing Casca? surely Judeau knew better than anyone how she was doing.

“I believe he left due to being, ahem, indisposed.”

“Indisposed?” Guts asked.

“Ill.”

“In that case we may take our leave officially.” Casca said relieved.

“Oh yeah, the ranking thing. Honestly I always forget, probably why you have more medals than me.”

“That is one of the many reasons, yes.”

“Well, it was good speaking with you Judeau.”

“Casca,” He nodded farewell, “Guts.”

“See you around, Judeau.”

Judeau smiled knowingly and walked away, a strange bounce in his step.


	7. After Party

Casca lead Guts away and out of the ballroom. He was quiet for the most part, just happy she still wanted anything to do with him. When they arrived at her rooms Guts shot her a questioning look.

“I- We need to talk more and this is the most private location I have.”

“Didn’t ask.”

She drew out her key and unlocked the door, brushing past him to enter the door. He followed her and she locked the door behind them. Casca set the key on her bedside table, busying herself around the room to tidy it up. Guts still stood by the door before slowly walking into room. He’d never been inside before, it was small, although larger than his bunk in the barracks. Maps and books lay on her desk, armor adorned with medals, and various weapons were about the room, including a familiar looking broken sword. He walked over to pick it up.

“I’m sorry it’s such a mess-” Casca apologised before seeing what he was holding, “Oh. That.”

“Never thought you were all that sentimental.” He said. She walked over to grab the sword, he didn’t let go, their hands touching.

“It was all I had left of you.” She answered somberly, “You make it look so light, but even broken it weighs more than my sword.”

Guts met her eyes and leaned forward to kiss her. It was light, but prompted her to move closer, the sword becoming sandwiched between them. Another kiss and then another, and then a few more that left them breathless by the time they finally broke apart.

“I’m happy we can do that now.” Casca said.

“Me too.” He admitted. Their foreheads were still touching, both were blushing slightly. Lightly he pulled the broken sword from her grasp, and set it down where he found it. When he met her dark eyes again, they were questioning him. “Don’t want to ruin your dress with some old sword.” He explained.

“Then take it off.”

He responded by kissing her, an action she readily returned. They’re moving at this point, where exactly, he’s not sure until the back of her knees hit her bed and she lays back, although now her skirts are in the way. He shrugged off his overcoat while she sat back on her elbows to watch him. 

She sat up to work on the buttons from before. Once unbuttoned she pushed the under coat off him too leaving him in just the necktie and under shirt. He kicked his shoes off, Casca already had her feet down to her stockings. The necktie was coming off already so it took a small tug to get it off, and the undershirt pulled over his head. Casca was becoming rather restless, so once he was significantly less clothed it was her turn.

She turned her back to him. Guts noticed her hair was a little longer than he remembered, covering her neck. He brushed it aside to kiss the back of her neck, earning a shiver from Casca.

“The lacing.” She managed. Guts undid the tie, slowly loosening the laces until the gown could be lifted over her head. Under the dress there was a shift and a few more skirts, including a hoop skirt. She untied these quickly, letting the skirts fall to the ground, leaving her in just the stockings and shift which left very little to the imagination. Not that he needed his imagination as he’d seen her naked a few time before. 

They were back to kissing again, open mouthed and heated. Now moved more onto the bed, Guts found his hand on the back of her head guiding her mouth so they could kiss even deeper, his other hand was feeling her bosom, a wonderful experience. Her hands were buried in his hair. 

“Your dagger-”

“That’s not my dagger.”

“Oh.”

Oh. 

Reminded that they weren’t yet free of clothes, somehow his pants were removed and her shift and stockings gone. And that was when the real fun began.

…

(A/N: Okay sorry for breaking immersion, but I had something written for when Guts has his like ptsd flashback, but really didn’t like it. So I was just going to copy the scene from the manga, but I also hate when people just retread the manga, so I’ve decided to just cut it. If you want smut and angst just go read the chapters (46&47 I think) and imagine they are in Casca’s bedroom and not under a waterfall. Again I apologise.)  
…

Guts wasn’t sure if they actually slept at all that night, for surely they dozed, but both were so- excited. After his incident, the lovemaking had been fine, great even, spectacular. Casca assured him he more than made up for it, which he hoped for her sake was true. It was beyond words for him, the feelings and sensations she stirred within him. The depth and scale of his feelings scared him a little, but in a good way. It just felt right. He felt more right than he could remember. It was a slow morning until the knock at the door.

The couple froze. They weren’t exactly trying to keep a secret, but it wasn’t like they wanted to be the center of attention. Casca, albeit reluctantly, got out of bed and put on her nightgown and robe to open the door, only a little though, so whoever it was wouldn’t be able to see inside.

“What?” Guts could hear her ask, sharing pleasantries before shutting her door.

He waited a few moments before asking, “Well?”

“It was a maid.”

He leaned back on the bed, “So are we going to be the talk of the town?”

“I don’t think so.” She blushed, “Not from that maid at least.”

He laughed.

“Hey, what’s so funny?”

“Nothing.”

“Why’re you laughing at nothing then?”

“I’m just so happy.”

“I’m happy too.”

“I’m glad.”

With nothing else to say, they continued their lazy morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is super short which is why I'm releasing it early, a full length chapter will be released tomorrow. I am sorry about the middle, I'm totally cheating, haha.


	8. First Day of the Tournament

Casca dodged another hit, dancing to the side as her challenger stabbed at her chest plate. 

She struck at his open side, his armor stopping her from cutting, but still a resounding blow. He was pushed off balance and she took her chance, kicking his knees out from under him causing him to clatter to the ground. She held her sword under his chin.

“I yield.” He said in frustration when it was obvious he had lost. It took her a few moments to process the statement, her adrenaline still pumping, but she took a step away and sheathed her sword.

The crowd erupted in cheers, a bouquet of flowers thrown her way. Really? She thought, all this? After all, it was only the preliminaries.

It had been two days since the royal wedding, and was the first day of the tournament. It had also been two days since she and Guts had stopped pretending there was nothing between them. Two days since they had first made love.

He was in the tournament as well, and considering the competition they would probably be the finalists. It surprised her, honestly how few warriors of merit were participating. Sure there were a bunch of strong men, skilled men, but none of them were Guts’ caliber, and she was fairly sure hers as well. Physically she was as weaker than most of them, but her skill was such that as long as the fights didn’t draw out too long it was almost an assured victory. In fact if Guts had not been there there was a good chance that she could have one the entire thing. Save a few fighters that she’d never seen before, especially the Kushan and his foreign weapons. 

Guts just outclassed them all, he was strong, skilled, and what he lacked in forethought he made up for with instinct and tenacity. Casca wondered how he’d react to her since he didn’t fight women. Perhaps he would drop out, but she had a feeling he wouldn’t.

Casca walked out of the arena after a few curtsies. The crowds ate that sort of thing up, her ‘duel’ status as a lady and as a knight. She removed her helmet, raking a hand through her sweaty hair as she moved towards her tent for the tournament.

There were already people around the tent, mostly young women, but there were a few others as well. Casca blushed as they squealed and cheered when noticing her. She accepted flowers and mumbled a few thank yous before entering her tent. Her fans still cheered a while before realizing she wasn’t coming out anytime soon. Casca was very humbled by her fan group and thankful to them, but even after a year she still wasn’t used to that kind of attention.

“They finally gone?” A gruff voice asked from behind a crate.

She blushed again, but put her hands on her hips anyways. “What are you doing here? Your match is soon.”

Guts sat up from his resting place, not even in armor yet. “I don’t have a tent to relax in… and I wanted to see you.”

Casca felt her heart flutter a bit. “How long have you been waiting? No one saw you did they?” She asked.

“Not long, I didn’t catch your match though, sorry.” He scratched his head, “I don’t think anyone noticed me.”

Casca let out a breath; she didn’t care who knew exactly, but others did. Had they been mercenaries still, no one would bat an eye… well they would but it would be for different reasons. It would be because they knew her and Guts, and their… history. Now, if the upper class people knew, it be about appearances. And proper unmarried women wouldn’t be doing these sort of things with men, or at least they shouldn’t. Casca just really didn’t want that kind of attention now. “That’s good. And it’s fine, I probably won’t be able to make it to your match, so it’s fair.”

He stood up and grabbed for a piece of armor. “Speaking of which, I should probably suit up, warm up a bit.”

Somehow Casca found herself ogling him as he stretched, transfixed by his scarred, but very muscular body. ‘Somehow’ because she had seen him this way before and had never been so spellbound. Perhaps it was because of how close they were now, what they had finally admitted and done. How he was hers and she was his. Because he had always been physically attractive, no doubt about that, she just never let herself admit it.

Because many men of the Hawk had rather impressive physic, good fighters generally did, but it never enraptured her like it did now. His arms looked bigger than her thighs, and oh how that made her want to feel how strong they were again. 

Breaking herself out of the strange trance, Casca grabbed his breastplate and made her way over. He stopped his stretch and looked expectantly at her. He leaned down his head and she realized he wanted her to put it on him. Casca obliged but said, “I’m not your squire.”

He rolled his eyes and responded, “Here, we’ll trade.” At her confused expression he elaborated, “You want that armor off right?”

She nodded and let him remove a paldron. She helped him put on one of his, using it as an opportunity to feel his bicep in what felt like a bold move. The touch seemed to surprise him, but not in a bad way as a grin found its way to his face. He pulled her closer with her cape before removing it. Not having any of his armor in reach, she let him unlatch her chest plate, pulling it over her head. Finally she was free of what was beginning to feel much too hot armor. She grabbed the bag that his armor was in and dressed him in his other paldron.

With his helmet in her hands, she placed it on his head, holding the sides of his face gently.   
She found him looking at her lips and decided to play a trick on him, sliding the face guard down between their nearing mouths.

“What?” He protested, “No good luck kiss?”

It was her turn to roll her eyes, but still she lifted the face guard so they could kiss. It was light and when over Casca joked, “Well I didn’t get one before my match so-”

He kissed her again, cutting her off, “You didn’t need it.”

“If I didn’t then you certainly don’t.”

He laughed “No, it’s for the other guy. If I’m distracted it may make things more fun.”

“You’re bizarre.”

Guts shrugged, “I came all this way for a tournament, don’t want to be that disappointed.”

“Well, you better finish getting that armor on soon.” Casca said, tapping his chest plate.

“Yes Ma'am.” He said affectionately, “How long until the next round?”

“I don’t know, they have to get the results from this one first.”

“Just tell me when your next one is, I don’t want the only match that I’m present for to be ours.”

Casca blushed, “You charmer.”

He frowned, but she could see he was a little flustered. He really wasn’t used to this sort of thing, she could tell. Not that she was either, but unlike him, this wasn’t the first time she explored these kind of feelings at least. Not to think too highly of herself, but she was pretty sure she was the only woman he’d ever had even a crush on. It made her feel very special, like whatever they were was meant to be, as foolish as that sounded.

Guts pulled the face guard down and finished getting ready. As he went to leave the tent he swatted her rear as he went past her.

“You dog!” She exclaimed, not exactly out of anger, but of pride. Still, she ran him out of her tent, him taking off with what looked like a grin on his face. That strange man. As he exited her tent, running off to his match, she called after him, “You better make it to our match!” and then quieter, sweeter, she said, “You fool.”


	9. Guts and Casca Fight

Her sword flew from her, and Casca had the feeling that if her grip had been stronger it would’ve broken; either her sword or her arm. His sword stopped inches away from her neck. They stood there for a few seconds before she realized what she was supposed to say.

The crowd watched in awe. They had heard of the lady knight commander’s grand declaration, but this was the first time it had been put to the test. Would she admit defeat and marry this man, or would her pride be so great as to wish for death instead? She was prideful enough for that to be a possibility. Some even thought the idea of her losing was impossible. Those were the people who didn’t know who Guts was.

Casca wasn’t used to yielding. In a real battle if she were to yield she’d in all likelihood be raped, and she’d rather die fighting than from the abuse of that. But this wasn’t a real battle and Guts wouldn’t do something like that. This almost seemed to be going to some sort of plan; the one person to beat her was the man she wanted to be with.

“I yield.”She said and Guts lowered his sword. The cheers started and the flowers were thrown. He shot a half smile at her which she reciprocated.

Casca collected her sword from where it lay. While not broken, she could tell it was strained and would need some smithing if she wanted to be reliable. Looking up she saw Guts’ offered hand and took it to stand up.

“You ruined my favorite sword.” She pouted, albeit in a teasing way.

“I know a good smith. Met him up in the mountains.”

Deciding that was a good enough answer, Casca asked, “So what now, champion?”

Guts shrugged, but then sent a rather cocky salute to the crowd, reminding Casca to curtsy.

“It’s still funny to see you do that.” He remarked.

People were starting to rush in, as the tournament was finished, it's champion named. Guts and her had more to talk about, but it was looking as if that would be later. “Guts?” She asked and kissed him on the cheek. “Come by my rooms later. Try to be discreet.”

“What? Sure.” He had flower petals in his hair, which while contrasting with his, well, everything, created an image that Casca could only describe as cute.

She let the crowd seperate them. They would talk later.

… 

It was later, and Guts was extra late. Casca didn’t know what was keeping him so long. Sure there was the awards ceremony, the following festivities and the feast, but those were all done hours ago. It was deep into the night by the time Guts finally decided to swing by her apartments. At that point she had gone to bed, assuming the man had partied too hard, and they would talk about what needed to be talked about tomorrow. Unfortunately she was wrong.

In the middle of the night, around midnight, or perhaps a bit passed it, a loud knock came at the door, jarring her awake. Casca jumped out of bed, in her nightgown and reached for her sword.

Blade in hand she made her way to the door, still half asleep. The knock sounded again, and was followed by the handle of the door wiggling as who ever it was tried to open it.

“Who’s there?” Casca asked to the closed door.

“Casca?” A familiar voice asked, although… something was a little off about it.

“Guts?” She asked, “What are you doing here?”

“You invited me.”

“So we could talk- and not in the middle of the freaking night.” All the same she opened the door, setting her sword to lean against the wall. “What took you so long?” She asked, taking a moment to observe his looks.

He was rather disheveled, hair messy, granted that was pretty normal for him, but hisshirt was missing, leaving him in just a coat. 

“And where’s your shirt?” she asked.

“Where’s your shirt?” He asked, stepping inside, but not out of her personal space.

“I’m wearing a nightgown.”

He didn’t have a retort for that, and just sent her a heated glance. It was still strange to get those from him, especially now that she knew they weren’t from anger. Her chest flooded with heat.

“So,” She cleared her throat and repeated, “What took you so long?”

“Don’t ever let anybody tell you you’re beautiful.” Guts said, not answering her question.

His comment seemed to confuse both of them.

“Sh*t, I mean- Don’t ever let anyone not tell you you’re beautiful- Dammit. I-”

“Guts? What’s going on?”

“I- You’re beautiful and should know it, and I want to make love to you for the rest of our lives.”

His confession took her aback.

“Guts?”

He misread her and went in for a kiss. Which was nice at first, and then rather forceful. She open her mouth to protest, but he took the opportunity to french her. It took a tug on his ear to actually get his attention.

“Ow, what was that for?” There was a slight slur in his words, and she had tasted the alcohol in his mouth.

“You’re drunk.” She deduced.

“Yeah so?” He leaned in again to where she stepped out of it.

“You’re sloppy and I’m tired and I don’t want to kiss you.”

He deflated when she said that. “Oh- I- I see.”

“Guts, what’s going on?” She asked yet again. “I’ve never seen you like this.”

He teetered where he stood, losing balance for a moment, and Casca led him to sit down on a chair. Guts thought for a moment,

“I was at a party being thrown by some of the Hawk’s Raiders and someone challenged me to a drinking contest, they were wondering if I was the champion of drink as well as swords.”

“You’re not.” 

“Yeah, well tonight I was.” Guts said, “Probably. I think. I might’ve slept a little bit.”

“Why’re you missing your shirt?”

“I’m missing my shirt?” He looked down. “Whose jacket is this?” 

The jacket had relatively big pockets, which Guts emptied immediately, revealing a shirt.

“This isn’t mine.” He inspected it closer, “Oh wait, it’s Gaston’s.”

“Why do you have Gaston’s shirt and jacket?”

“I think we switched. He thought it would be funny.” Guts frowned, “His shirt was too small for me though.”

“So you were drinking with Gaston? Why did he let you wander into the night?”

“Uhh…” Guts thought for a moment, “Some one found some really nice wine, it was imported or something, dunno, burnt the hairs in your nose type of stuff. Didn’t much care for it, but still wasn’t about to lose. Franko wanted to go whoring after, but I didn’t, so it was just me and Gaston and a few others and we just talked about stuff and someone asked about you and thought I should try romancing you, and I said I didn’t know how. So Simon said I should tell you you’re the most beautiful woman in the world, that you should never let someone tell you you aren’t beautiful.” Guts seemed rather proud of his recollection until he looked at her. “But I messed up, didn’t I.”

“Sort of.” Casca shook her head tiredly. “It’s bad etiquette to show up at someone’s door in the middle of the night.”

“I just, wanted to see you.” He seemed rather fragile, as fragile as someone like him could be. In a small voice he said, “You don’t want me.”

“Guts it’s not that.”

“You don’t want to kiss me.”

“Right now. Later, maybe.”

“No one ever wanted me.”

Casca furrowed her brows, “What are you talking about? You have so many people who care about you.”

“Really? You’re sure?”

“Yes I’m sure.”

“Wow I’m dumb then.” He looked relieved, “All my life I just, I remember being told ‘You should’ve died.’ ‘Nobody likes you’, ‘Everything’s your fault,’ and stuff, 

Casca blushed from embarrassment. She had said some of those things, and if not aloud, definitely thought them.

“-And my body just keeps going forward.” Guts continued, “Well look at me feeling sorry for myself, this is why I don’t drink.”

“Guts…” Casca tried to formulate her words correctly, “You know it’s okay to talk about these things, with me especially.” And then without thinking she added, “I am going to be your wife.”

“You’re one to talk, it took almost dying to even try and open that can of worms- Wait, what?”

“What?”

“You just-” He trailed off for a moment, “You just said you’re my wife.”

“I said I was going to be.” When he didn’t reply she couldn’t help but grow angry, “What? You’ve practically have been asking me for the past couple weeks to marry you.”

“I have?” He seemed honestly confused.

“What is ‘I want to make love to you for the rest of our lives’ supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know. It seemed right to say and it’s true.”

“I call you a fool, but I know you’re not that dumb.”

“Does this mean you’re saying yes?”

“Did you even ask?!”

“Well, I was asking you to travel with me, which I wasn’t really thinking of as marriage… but now that I think of it, it basically is if we keep doing what we are doing…” He thought for a moment, “I mean I don’t care much what we call it, but if you wanna get married, then why not?”

She was still cross, “So? Get on with it!”

“With what?”

“Asking me to marry you!” She practically yelled.

“CAsca.” Guts said, “Marry me.”

“That wasn’t asking.”

“You already said yes.”

“You’re drunk.”

“I know.” Guts repeated, “Marry me.”

“This means you can’t leave me, it’s a promise you know.”

“Are you trying to talk me out of it?” Louder he added, “MARRY ME.”

“FINE.” Casca said, “But don’t yell.”

“Kay.”

He was sort of charming like this, cute even, Casca decided, when he wasn’t trying to kiss her that was.

“Hey Casca…” He said, “It’s sort of late out and-”

“You want to spend the night?” She finished for him.

Guts nodded.

“Fine.” Casca said. Truthfully she didn’t trust him to get back to his own bed without some sort of trouble. “But we’re just sleeping.”

“Wait, I get to sleep in the bed?” He said, “Cool.”

He thought she was going to make him sleep on the floor? Did he really think that of her?

“Of course.”

As it turns out, as she found the next morning maybe it would’ve been better to kick him to the floor as he just barely vomited out the window. A little got on her bed, making Casca was surprised, and then angry.

“That’s what you get for staying out drinking!” She scolded.

“Geez,” He groaned, “I see why wives are considered nags.”

“Why you-” She sputtered, “You just threw up out my window!”

“Not so loud- ugh,” He pressed his forehead to the window pane.

“You’re cleaning my bed.”

“Sure sure.” 

She could tell he wasn’t listening. At the same time she could tell he was in a bit of pain, not that she had much sympathy considering it was all self-inflicted.

“Come on,” She placed a hand on his arm, “When you feel up to it, we’ll get everything cleaned up.”

He nodded.

After a few moments, he said, “...Thanks, for letting me stay.”

“I’m starting to regret it.” She joked, but it seemed Guts missed her tone.

“I wouldn’t blame you, I was acting…” He paused, “From what I remember, not great.”

“Well you still listened to me, so you aren’t totally irreprehensible.”

“REally? I’ve been told my listening skills aren’t the best.” He pretended to think for a moment, “I’m trying to remember who told me that, oh, it couldn't’ be you, could it?”

“Are you trying to piss me off right now?”

“I’m- uh,sorry.” He said quietly.

Casca paused, caught off guard. “Try not to do it again.” She said.

“I really don’t normally get drunk like that.”

“I know.”

“So you forgive me?”

She pulled the bed cover that had the vomit on it. “I’ll forgive you after you wash this.”

Guts, still used to her temper and seemed surprised by her grace. “You’re the boss.”

And Casca wasn’t expecting him to accept the chore so readily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So warning I'm probably not going to be regular with the rest of the chapters, sorry, but good news, it's almost done.


	10. Guts and Griffith Finally Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a bit short, I finally have the next chapter started with a little headway. Thank you all for the support, I'm glad this project has brought joy to others.

“So.” Guts started, “You’ve got your kingdom now.” 

“It seems so.” Griffith said coldly, not sparing Guts a glance.

“Judeau told me I should thank you for inviting me to your wedding.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I didn’t finish.” Guts said, “I’m not thanking you.”

Griffith was quiet, waiting for Guts to continue.

“I’m returning the favor.” 

Griffith obviously had no idea what he was talking about.

“I’m getting married.” Guts clarified, if not awkwardly, he still wasn’t sure how to feel about the whole marriage situation. “To Casca. You’re invited.”

“I see.” Griffith said, still distant. “Is she pregnant?”

“What?” Guts asked a bit too loudly, “No, I mean, I don’t think so?”

“So she went through with her promise,” Griffith said, “To be honest I never thought she would follow through, but that was because I figured you would never fight her and I knew I never would. Well I hope her wedding doesn’t distract her too much from her duties, I know Princess Charlotte became terribly single minded during our engagement. Although,” Griffith thought aloud, “She and Casca are quite different.”

“You could say that again.”

“What are you going to do after your wedding?” Griffith asked.

“My plans haven’t changed much, I figured I’d go continue my quest.”

“You would leave your new wife?”

“Well, no. Casca’s coming with me.”

“...I see.” Griffith seemed even more withdrawn. “And Casca knows this?”

“It’s why she wants us to get married in the first place.” Guts said, “She cares too much about your reputation to ‘soil it with debauchery’.”

“She always was so loyal.” Griffith said dismissively, like somehow because she was marrying Guts she wasn’t.

“She is loyal, Griffith.” Guts said, feeling the need to defend her feeling, to make Griffith understand how much of a big deal this was for her, for both of them. They loved Griffith, but this kind of life was stifling; Impossible for Guts, and grating on Casca. “She would die for you.” He finished.

“And what about you, Guts. Would you die for me?”

“You know the answer to that.” He dismissed.

“No. I don’t. I said you belonged to me, and you walked away like it was all nothing.”

“I don’t belong to anyone!” Guts snapped, “Least of all you.”

Griffith was taken aback, he’d never been on the receiving end of Guts’ anger since he beaten him those years ago.

“So to answer your question,” Guts continued, “If you commanded me, I wouldn’t, but if my friend needed me…” He sighed, “What kind of person would I be to refuse.”

“...Guts.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Guts said, trying to dismiss the sentimental mood, “So the wedding’s in a week, you can bring whoever, but its a mercenary wedding, so the reception may not be to your more noble friend’s tastes.”

“Guts, they aren’t my friends.”

“Yeah, I know.”

You don’t have any friends

For me to call a man my friend, he must be equal to me in all respects.


	11. Another Wedding

Their own wedding, Guts and Casca’s, that is, passed way faster than the royal one. It was simple and straight to the point, more than a mercenary wedding (well if they were still just both mercenaries they probably wouldn’t officially get married) but less than the second in command of an army’s. Casca wore a nice dress, or at least Guts thought she looked nice in it, and he wore nice clothes, well, they were new clothes that had yet to be anything but nice.

This being like the third or so wedding he’d ever attended, everything went pretty smoothly. He said some vows about honoring and standing by Casca, and she said the same about him. It all seemed very final, very permanent, which gave Guts a bunch of mixed feelings. He’d never had anything permanent, nothing to rely on but his own strength, now he had her. And she had him. He didn’t really think it was an equal exchange, but it all seem to make her happy.

And happy wife, happy life, right?

The reception was more fun than Griffith’s in that Guts actually knew most of the people there. Most of the old Band of the Hawk showed up, including the raiders. It was good to see them all together again, many had left to pursue other interests, like Gaston and his tailor shop, or the couple others who returned to their farms with wealth and glory. They were all moving apart, slowly but surely; the two weddings seeming to mark the turning point. The Band of the Hawk was dead, the Holy White Phoenix Knights taking their place.

Guts almost felt sad, this place that had been his home, the only true home he’d ever had, was dissolving before his eyes. But he was good at rolling with the punches, and while part of him missed the war, the simplicity of killing so you don’t die, a united purpose, it wasn’t a sustainable lifestyle. It was also all he knew.

Casca too, while a farmer’s daughter at one point, she grew up to be a battle commander. This was as unfamiliar territory to her as it was to him. But hey, with his stubbornness and her… stubbornness there was no way they could fail. Or rather, no way they would accept failure. 

“Guts, come on, it’s time for our first dance.” Cacsa said, pulling on his arm.

“First dance? But we’ve danced before-”

“It’s tradition.” She said.

Guts was a little reluctant to dance in front of so many people, thankful for once for his and Casca’s dance lessons. A fast paced song started. Perfect, Guts thought; he always liked the faster ones, for some reason he found them easier, Casca thought it was bizarre. So off with a skip and a hop they started their first dance as husband and wife. 

Casca was laughing, and Guts found himself smiling as well. 

Once they were done, apparently everyone was shocked by their performance. 

“When did Guts learn how to dance?” One of the former raiders asked.

Almost bashfully (as bashful as someone like Guts could get) he answered, “Casca’s been teaching me.”

“So that’s why you two were always were always disappearing.” Rickert concluded.

Judeau called out, “Was that all you were doing?” Earning a few whistles from the crowd.

Casca who would normally lash out started laughing again. She waved him closer so she could whisper in his ear.

“They’d never believe us that that was all we were doing.” She said through giggles.

Her laughter was infectious and what she said true. The fact they had started being intimate less than two weeks ago was a fact even Guts had a hard time believing. Either because they were so good together or because neither of them ever saw that kind of relationship in the future. 

“So you two really are leaving?” Ricket asked, “I’ve just heard rumors… but with Casca being the second in command I thought...”

“We will be leaving, I don’t know for how long.” Casca looked to Guts who shrugged.

“It’s not really planned out, I figured Casca needed a break from all that.” He settled an arm around her.

“Well I want to go meet that blacksmith you talked about.” Casca interjected.

“Godo? Why?”

“He and his daughter sounded like interesting people.” Casca shrugged.

“I guess we’re going to the mountains first then.”

“The mountains,” Rickert repeated, “I’ve always wanted to go there.”

“Why would you want to go to some backwater mountains when you have money and live in the capitol?” Corkus asked. Guts was surprised he even showed up, as when Corkus first heard Guts and Casca were getting married he just muttered something about misery loving company. But here he was. As much as Corkus hated Guts, Guts could never reciprocate. Corkus was just such a simple man, and the simple path when encountered with Guts was to hate him. It’s just the way things were and Guts wasn’t particularly hurt by it.

“Seems like a strange place to honeymoon unless you like doin’ it in the dirt.” Cokus added crassly.

“At least there will be privacy.” Judeau said, joining the conversation, “There’s not a lot of that around here, even the princess’ chambers I am told.”

“I hate to break this to you, but I don’t really want to know about Griffith’s sex life.” Guts said.

“Well, neither do I now, but the rumors going around right after you left were that someone had been seen inside the princess Charlotte’s bed chambers.”

“Why bring that up now?” Casca asked.

“Well I just found out it was completely true.” Judeu nodded his head in the direction of one of the guests, a maid who had come in the company of one of the hawks. “She’s friends with the one who saw it all.”

“You believe her?” Casca asked. The said maid was obviously getting quite sloshed.

“She’s too drunk to be lying.” Judeau shrugged, “I don’t know, I just- I guess we know how Griffith married the Princess now.”

“I guess we do.” Guts said. “Honestly I hadn’t even thought about how he convinced the king to let him marry his daughter.”

They all stared at the castle for moment.

“I guess we take that secret to the grave.” Casca said. And in truth they probably would, the Band of the Hawk was loyal like that.

“Well, Lady Casca, could I steal a dance from you?” Judeau asked, “Or do you not want to be stolen away from your husband so soon?”

“He’ll be my only company soon enough.” Casca laughed. “I think I can bear to be parted for a few minutes.” She looked up at Guts and jokingly asked, “Is that okay, honey?”

He blinked before replying, “Oh sure thing, sweety.”

Rickert pretended to gag, and Corkus groaned.

Judeau held out his arm and Casca accepted. They walked over to the crowd of dancers.

“Come on Rickert,” Corkus said, “I’m gonna show you how to out drink any man alive.”

“Uhh, but I was-”

Corkus threw an arm around the boy, forcing him along. Rickert threw an apologetic look at Guts, but Guts just waved him away. 

Guts was alone for a couple moments, which admittedly was nice. He watched Casca dance with Judeau, the two laughing about something. He felt a little guilty about taking her away from all these people who relied on her, but at the same time he could tell it was a heavy burden on her. She wore it well, but everyone could use a break, right?

“Hey, Captain!” Gaston called, walking over. “She left you already?” He asked motioning with his head at Casca and Judeau.

Guts shook his head, and accepted the cup that Gaston offered him, “I’m not your captain anymore.”

“And I’m not a mercenary anymore.” 

“I still have your shirt, if you want it back.” Guts said.

“I almost forgot about that, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you that drunk before.” Gaston laughed, “Who even won that contest?”

“We lost count, remember? That’s when you guys started ribbing me about Casca.” He scratched his nose.

“You wanna settle now then? I think the crew’s all here.”

“Are you kidding? Casca nearly killed me last time.”

Gaston blanched, “Wait, so you actually did it?”

“Uh, yeah.” Guts answered, “She was not as impressed as you guys thought she would be.”

“Well that’s what you get for listening to Simon, I swear for all his advice I don’t think he’s ever been with a woman.”

They both shared a chuckle at the expense of their friend. Sobering a bit, Gaston place a hand on Guts’ shoulder.

“Y'know, I’m really happy for you two.” He placed a hand in front of his mouth as if confiding something, “You know, we all took bets during the war about you two.”

“Did you now?” This was the first Guts had heard about this.

“Yeah, whether you two would kill each other, or screw each other.”

“Well, I wouldn’t cash in anything yet; she still has time kill me.”

Gaston let out another bark of laughter.

Casca had begun to approach them again, Judeau somewhere else it seemed.

“Commander.” Gaston greeted. “Just wishing you both well.”

“Thank you, how is your shop doing?” Casca asked.

“Not so bad, all things considered.” Gaston answered.

Their small talk continued, until a song picked up that got Guts’ foot tapping. Casca noticed and grabbed his hand back toward the dance floor. Gaston more than understood, just laughing at his former captain.

“Man, those guys can really play.” Guts said, gesturing to the band with a nod. “They were in the Band of the Hawk?”

“Yeah,” Casca smiled, “I guess at some point we both saved their lives and they offered to play at the reception.”

“Really?” Guts tried to recall. “I don’t-”

“To be honest I can’t remember them either.” Casca confessed.

“Huh, guess we saved too many people to keep count.”

“Maybe.”

They continued the dance until the music slowed and so they changed to a slower dance. Casca was smiling and Guts found himself enchanted.

They danced and then they rested, and then they socialized, and ate, danced again until it was late in the night, and just a few around a fire. Pippin, Judeau, Rickert, and even Corkus (granted he was just passed out on a bench.) Griffith had not shown up. Not that he had RSVPed or anything, but it was only the wedding of his ex-best-friend and second in command. Not a big deal or anything, it wasn’t like he had gone to Griffith’s wedding. Noo, Guts wasn’t upset.

“It does feel strange that he isn’t here.” Judeau commented. What, was he a mind reader?

“Oh, don’t look at him like that.” Casca said, “You have a very distinct ‘thinking too hard about something you shouldn’t be’ face.”

Judeau shrugged as if to say she was right. “To be fair, we were all thinking it.”

“It’s was weird when you left too, Guts.” Rickert said, then yawned, “It’ll be weird when Casca’s gone too.”

“Yes, well, we’ll see each other again.” Casca assured.

“Promise?” 

“Of course.” 

Casca leaned her head on Guts’ shoulder and closed her eyes. Rickert also seemed rather drowsy. Pippin picked up Rickert and Corkus, and bid Casca and Guts a good night. 

Judeau winked saying, “Well, it is getting late, and I better help Pippin. Hope you two have a good night.”

Guts couldn’t help but grin, and waved his friends a good night. Casca did the same.

When they were out of sight, Casca sighed and stretched.

“It’s finally over.” She said with relief.

“I thought all brides never wished their wedding days to end?” He stood up and offered a hand all the same.

“You haven’t met many brides have you?” She asked, accepting his hand.

“Including you? Like three.” In one motion, Guts drew her up into his arms, carrying her bridal style.

She crossed her arms. “Really?”

“You are a bride.” Guts said, “It’s fitting.”

“Are you planning to carry me all the way to my room?”

“I mean, that’s what I’m supposed to do, right?”

The stern face Casca was trying to keep cracked into a smile, “Well, get on with it then.”

They fell into a comfortable silence as they made their way to Casca’s room. Was it also considered Guts’ room now? If so, not for long; they would be leaving soon. It had been hard leaving the first time, now seeing how much he really missed them it might be even harder. They were all moving on, putting the past into the past. It would do no good to dwell there for long. Leaving was like cutting off an infected limb, painful, but ultimately needed.

Casca would be with him making the whole event better. With her and everyone’s blessing it finally felt right, like this was what was supposed to happen.

Finally at the door, Guts opened it, setting Casca on her feet before closing it behind them. She sat down on her bed and and tried at the laces on her shoes. She seemed tired as her fingers were clumsy.

Guts kicked off his own boots and undid a few of the buttons on his shirt. Watching her struggle for a moment he kneeled in front of her, taking over the loosening of her shoes. It took a little effort to get the leather off, but Guts succeeded, setting one shoe off to the side before working on the other. Casca wiggled her toes on the freed foot, sighing contentedly. When both shoes were off, Guts stood up and sat next to Casca on the bed.

She hadn’t removed the flowers from her hair yet, but the necklace and other jewelry had been removed. She leaned closer to him and finished unbuttoning his shirt, which he shrugged off.

“You looked quite dashing cleaned up.” Casca flirted.

“Oh do I, Lady Casca?” He chuckled.

She eyed him and started undressing herself. She stood up and let the outer dress fall to the ground. Now in just a slip, Guts let himself take her in. He had a hot wife. She blushed under his attention, and he almost teased her about being a blushing bride, but she said, “You can take off your pants. If you want.”

“I’m fine.” He was under the impression she was too tired for any fooling around tonight. Though perhaps he misread her? “Unless you want me to-” He started, before she cut him off.

“No. You’re fine, I just-” She looked at her dress on the ground. “Whatever make you most comfortable. You just get ready for bed.” She gathered up her clothes, saying, “I need to put these away.”

He nodded and she went to the other room in her apartment. He followed her advice and lifted the covers, laying under them. Her bed was comfortable, much more comfortable than the straw stuffed cot he had been sleeping on for the past couple weeks. And the blankets too, not scratchy at all. It was almost too comfortable and warm. Guts decided he wanted to take off his tank top too, so he did.

He felt a little better, but when Casca joined him he’d definitely would still be too warm. He thrashed around a bit before deciding his pants had to go as well. Plus they were his dress pants, too stiff to sleep in, and Casca had told him to get comfortable. So he shimmied out of the pants and dropped them where the rest of his stuff was.

His sword leaned against the wall near hers. It was out of reach from the bed, which felt strange. Guts lay on his back string at the ceiling. It was still uncomfortable, but that was probably just because he wasn’t used to it.

Finally Casca reentered the room, extinguishing the lamps until the only one was the one on the nightstand. Guts slid over so he was closer to wall. It was still a bed meant for one person, but he didn’t mind the close corners. She got under the covers before blowing out the candle, rolling so she was facing him. It was then that she noticed he was naked. 

“Why’re- You said.-” she sputtered.

“It was too warm with them on.” Guts explained. 

She bit her lip before tugging her slip off. 

This surprised Guts, but he wasn’t complaining. He was still confused though, “What’re you doing?”

“I thought you wanted to- It is our wedding night.”

“If you want to, I’m game, but I thought you were tired. Honestly I’m kind of tired too.”

“So you didn’t...?”

“We have a long day tomorrow and an early morning.” He shrugged.

“You couldn’t have just taken off a blanket?”

He hadn’t thought of that. And he didn’t want to impose.

“So you care then?” Casca asked.

“Care about what?”

“That we aren’t consummating our marriage tonight?”

“Are you?”

“No, it’s just I’ve heard that men…”

We’ve already consummated it, right?” Guts asked, “Multiple times, if I remember correctly.”

“Yes, but-”

“Look, if it bothers you so much we can do it tomorrow after go on the road.”

“That’s not what I was going to say.”

“Oh.”

“But sure, we can do that.” She winked, “I was going to say, we’re married now.”

“Yeah.”

“We. Are. Married.” 

“Yeah.” He wasn’t getting it.

“When we met, who would’ve thought thing would’ve happened. I certainly wouldn’t have.”

“Me neither.” Guts admitted.

“Are you happy?”

“Yeah, you?”

“Mhhm.”

With that they tried to settle in to go to sleep, but something wasn’t right. Guts had gotten rather squished against the wall and Casca wasn’t fully on the bed as they tried to give each other room. Finally meeting each other’s eyes in the dark, they both burst out laughing.

“Come here, you.”

They moved so Casca was lying on him, a little more snug than he was used to, but it also almost made him want to perform his marital duties. If he wasn’t so tired. After a little more adjusting, they both started drifting off.

“Night, night.” Casca murmured.

Guts grunted a “G’night.” and let sleep take hold.

And so, the young couple fell asleep until morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait. Dunno when the next chapter will be out, but I've had a lot of fun writing this. Thanks for all of the support.


	12. Off into the Sunrise

“This probably isn’t the best time to say this, but I think it needs to be said.” Judeau said, uncommonly off kilter.

“You know you can tell me anything.” Casca smiled, “I’ve certainly told you almost everything.”

And she should be smiling on her wedding day he thought. A bride always should be. He couldn’t ruin that, not that it would ruin it, but it might sour it just a bit, and that wasn’t fair.

Finally Judeau said, “You cry a lot when you’re alone, don’t you?”

“What? Where did that come from?”

“It’s nothing, just- Live your life to the fullest.”

“Of course. Thank you Judeau.”

He smiled back, and wondered why he even fell for her in the first place, when he knew this was how it would end. Still, he couldn’t feel that bad for himself, and he would bounce back. He always did. 

But seriously? Talking about how she cried? And he thought he was a smooth talker…

…

Griffith watched the wedding reception from a window. He really couldn’t have gone, he was much too busy with new duties as the next king of Midland. He wondered if Guts knew that it wasn’t by choice Griffith wasn’t there. 

He hoped he did.

And then Griffith hated himself for thinking that. 

Guts had almost caused his entire plan to fall apart, he was the reason Griffith had made the emotionally impaired decision to seduce the Princess. Griffith still didn’t exactly know why he had done that. He hadn’t been thinking about the consequences, or even tomorrow; highly uncharacteristic of him.

After that night, the Princess and himself shared only a few kisses, which was much safer and made her happy enough. It had also helped motivate her to convince her father let Griffith marry her. He still considered that a huge feat in itself. While he had no particularly strong feelings for her, it was nice to see her happy, and for all her naivate she was quite beautiful. No, Griffith didn’t have any complaints about his lot in life, or wife, but he still wondered…

About Casca and Guts. How did they even end up together?

Maybe it had been an oversight on his part, but Griffith had always just assumed Casca would remain by his side. He tried to identify what he was feeling in the moment, and the closest he could think was betrayal. Which wasn’t fair to Casca, he knew that, he had never intended to have anything more than a general-soldier relationship with her.

But now that he couldn’t have her, it was almost like Guts had taken another thing from him. Thinking along those line, it was almost funny; Griffith was like the child who only wanted a toy because someone else was playing with it.

He couldn’t help but smile then, at the wedding, at himself, at nothing. He turned away to continue his duties.

Good luck to the happy couple, He thought, just maybe a little bitterly.

…

Guts and Casca woke at the crack of dawn, out of habit more than anything.

“Good morning.” Casca said, sitting up.

Guts just smiled before saying, “So you ready to go?”

“I guess.” She held her arms to herself, “I’m a little… jittery. Like I can’t tell if I’m excited or nervous.”

“It’s fine to be both.” He pulled her back to his chest to hold her in an embrace.

“What are you doing?” She was playful again, which Guts figured was good.

“You want to consummate our marriage?”

Casca blushed despite herself and lightly hit his chest with a fist, “I don’t think we woke up early enough for that.”

“Hmm.” Guts hummed, “I guess so. Why do you always have to be right?”

“Because I’m your wife.” She answered simply.

“The guys did warn me.” He quipped, releasing her.

They got up with a little more flirting, getting ready for their journey. Guts had barely anything, Casca had a bit more, but had also lived as a mercenary for near a decade. She had packed a few days prior, everything else in her room going to storage courtesy of Griffith (because she was coming back, right?). Honestly, when asked that question Guts didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know when they were coming back, and for how long, and why. The only person he really cared about coming back to was Rickert, because Guts had actually promised him something.

“Ready?” Guts asked as Casca hesitated at her door.

“I- Yes. As I’ll ever be.” And reached out to take his hand.

He grasped it firmly, liking the feeling of her hand in his. In general, he liked the feeling of her.

After walking a little ways, Guts said, “I’m really happy you’re coming with me.”

“I’m really happy to be leaving.” Casca replied, “I didn’t realize how much I needed a vacation.”

“I think everyone else did.” Guts muttered, earning a sharp:

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

Them getting married didn’t change how she was at all. Something Guts was thankful for; he’d fallen for her when she was a bit of a b*tch.

…

They finally made it to gate to the city, and then out side of the city where they saw a familiar group under a lone tree.

“Good morning.” Judeau greeted, “You two are here a lot earlier than I was figuring. Guess it was a good idea to get here early.”

“Well we did sleep in a bit.” Casca admitted, “But this is a pleasant surprise for you all to send us off.”

Guts smiled a nodded in greeting. It was good to see his friends once more before leaving. Even Griffith and Corkus, he told himself.

“I don’t know why I let them get me up at the butt crack of dawn to say bye, but…” Corkus looked almost embarrassed, “Life might get boring without you two.”

“I’m gonna miss you guys sooo much.” Rickert exclaimed, hugging Casca.

“We’ll miss you too.” She said. She pulled back to say, “Continue your tinkering, you’re pretty good at it.”

Rickert looked on the verge of tears, not speaking again to keep his composure. He nodded in response. Guts ruffled the boys hair affectionately.

Judeau stepped forward and opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out, instead Casca hugged him. He seem relieved. 

“Hold down the fort while I’m gone.” She smiled. 

“Have fun on your honeymoon.”

“Thanks.” Guts said. For a lot, he thought, and hoped Judeau could tell. Judeau was nothing if not perceptive, and of course he did.

“Only doing what anyone else would’ve.” Judeau seemed almost misty eyed.

The couple came to Pippin, who didn’t have much to say, but hugged both of them. It said more than words ever could.

Finally there was Griffith. There was a tension in the air that Guts hadn’t noticed until that moment. Now he found too much to say, and no idea how to say it. He didn’t want to be on bad terms with Griffith anymore, and he doubted they could ever go back to the ease they once had, but they were friends once, could they not be again?

“Casca.” Griffith addressed her first, “You will always have a place at the castle as long as I’m in power.”

“Thank you Griffith.”

His pale eyes then settled on Guts. “And Guts…” He said, “Please keep my second in command safe.” He held out a hand.

Guts took it, “Of course.”

They both tightened the grip of their hands in camaraderie and knew their feud was, if not over, on the mend. They both had bigger things to worry about. “Don’t forget to let loose every once in a while.”

Griffith smiled, “Of course.”

Casca’s eyes were shining now, but she was still smiling, so Guts took that they were happy tears. 

“I guess we should get on our way now.” He said.

“Sure you don’t want any horses?” Judeau asked.

“No, we’re good. Thank you.” Casca answered.

“Alright, alright.” He waved them off, “Go make some legends.”

They all shared one last goodbye before the newly weds set off on their journey. As they walked away, Casca’s hand found his. Guts smiled and glanced at her. He’d made a lot of bad decisions in his life, but for once he was confident this wasn’t one. She glanced at him and returned the smiled. 

They didn’t look back.

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After long ado, here is the final chapter. I'm sorry it's so short, and that it took so long, but I think it's a nice ending. Thank you all for all the kind words and support I've received, I write for myself, but it still means a lot that others like my writing too. Let's hope the next Berserk chapter actually comes out sooner rather than later haha (and that it's not a Griffith chapter).


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